Saturday I noticed that Tina's car had a nearly flat tire. The tires are brand new, barely a thousand miles on them. I filled it and found the head of a roofing nail dead center in the tread. So Monday morning at dawn I headed for the place where I've gotten replacement tires for more than twenty years. They don't fix flats with a "plug" but do the full repair—dismount the tire, vulcanize a patch from the inside, then mount and balance before putting the wheel back on the car. It can be a pretty busy place, but less so right after they open at seven, so I left in the dark with the temperature about 15° F. Then of course made some pictures while they did the repair.
There's a used car lot neighboring the tire store to the east.
Out back there are some retired semi-trailers that are used as a warehouse for stock.
Over on the west side there's a big nursery/greenhouse place that has been out of business for a number of years now. All looked pretty interesting in the cold winter light as the sun eased up into the frozen sky.