It's somehow appropriate that I'm writing on the cusp of the shortest daylight of the year. I have this mental picture of a brainless millennial anguishing over global warming, pandemics and -OMG- the days are getting longer! If it weren't for stress there'd be no sign of life at all in these people.
Longer days mean more dayLIGHT, more time to poke around airplanes and more time to fly!
My ignition system has been replaced on the Glastar and the test flight went beautifully, though my electronic tach reads half the rpm .. Steve, an engineer friend, when he heard this, said "you've been to college", meaning no big deal; multiplication is not that hard. I suppose not, even for a theatre major, especially when the "times tables" don't extend past "two". I just pretend I'm flying behind a Kinner.
Our new pandemic iteration has the catchy sobriquet: "Omicron". Apparently it is more transmissible. I'm not going to worry until it gets to "Omega", the last letter in the Greek alphabet. In the meantime there's hot chocolate in the afternoon and Redemption Rye in the evening. What, me worry?
