New stock inbound
Although I can claim no credit, the back deck is now clear of snow. Because, as you can guess, we have bew stock inbound. The storm warning is nebulous, but it mentions the holy trinity of a real winter storm: rain, freezing rain and snow. Hard to know, beforehand, but the forecast folks mention forty (centimeters) and ninety (kph). A mess, in colloquial terms. I will stay inside, wisely, and see what actually piles on the newly cleared deck. Enough wind, and it auto-clears. A secret known only to house who live in the Great White North.
We are getting close to a full moon, but last night I could only notice how bright things were from the windows. Possibly due to our outdoor lights… coming on when certain beasts check out the food supply. Foxes, I suspect. The dog has a secret bark that he uses when he sees one. And when he wanted an outdoor break, I had to hold tight to make sure he didn’t go ‘a hunting. He was tempted, despite having no practical experience in the art.
Son #1 wandered about land prices, when he spitted a lot within his budget. I am a spoiler of such dreams, noting that less than an acre (locally) is an invitation to pay taxes, nothing more. Rules.
The middle of the month is near. A reminder that I have more travel on the calendar. No, I don’t want to go. Too far, too fast. I have no input, so I’d best prepare the little things. Toll coins. A warm coat. Tunes? Nah, we have that newfangled satellite radio, which preempts any play casting I might undertake.
Stay tuned: if I hear any great music on that classic album channel, I’ll mention it. All seventies, which gives away my age to anyone that cares.
