Well, it was winter the last few days -- never got out of
the mid-30s on our ridge Monday -- and it was fogsoon season as well. You know fogsoon, don't you? Wet, raining from all directions ("It
even rained upside down," as Forrest Gump once observed), and soaked
everything even when it wasn't raining. Then
if neither the sun nor the wind comes out, nothing dries out. "You cain't do nothing", to
paraphrase the late James G. "Squirrel" Garrison.
Today, however, the stars and a sliver of moon were out
brightly when I crawled out of the sack at 5 a.m. to grind out my quotidian of
1,000 words. Now the sun is out and bearing down and the wind is howling at
15-20 knots. There are whitecaps out on
the hayfield, and there's a small craft warning for garden tractors and wheelbarrows. Might be best to stay in the slip, and turn to the traditional make and mend work before splicing the mainbrace sometime in late afternoon.
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