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It's the 12th of September, I live in Virginia, and it's 60 degrees, cloudy and raw. I'm sitting here seriously thinking about starting a fire. In September. Around here, it's usually sunny and 85 this early in September. And of course, I checked the climatology. Last year, 85 degrees F. Average for yesterday, 80 degrees F. 5 inches of rain so far this month, zero last year for the same timeframe.

So my impression that it is cold and raw is about right.

Let the girls out. The dog gets ridiculously excited over a walk to the barn. He doesn't get out much. Rainbow Tom seizes this opportunity to spray the lawn tractor's cart. He does this. Sprays the tractor, the cart, the bagger, in some sort of feline rotation. I echo his sentiments as the grass is laughing at me for not mowing and my feet got soaked on the way to the barn. But until we dry out a bit, I can't mow. Last weekend was perfect for mowing, but I was on the day job. J did some mowing for me, but not where I walk. I always mow that first and let the rest get done whenever.

I wish it were this kind of sunny day. I wish I were working in the cabin. I wish I didn't have more to do before I can get back to the cabin. If wishes were horses...

The only way I'm going to get back out there is to clear the crap off my house desk. This is day four of slogging away at it and it's starting to make a dent in the pile. So stop blogging already.

Frog Out

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