Monday was 80 degrees, sunny, windy. I finished the second coat of paint on the inside of the playhouse and went in to get hamburgers to barbque for FHE dinner. I watered all the pansies I have planted for Melinda's wedding, it was so warm. They were actually drying out. Wearing my flip flops was like hanging out with an old friend. I surveyed the back yard and noted that it kind of looks like the Gobi Desert with all the grass gone. The mounds under the apple trees and other places where there will be bark beds are starting to take shape.
Tuesday I was working at my computer for most of the morning, re-writing a history for the book (Vol. 2) which is closer than ever to publication. I got up and stretched, wandering out back to check on the yard progress. I opened the back door and a cold blast of wind hit me, making me momentarily forget my question for Packy, our landscaper. I shuddered against the low temperature as I carefully made my way down the deck stairs, determined to complete my mission. My toes were frosty by the time I reached the patio. "Uhm, what happened out here--why is it so cold?" That wasn't the question. Oh well, time to get back in before I can't move because of my plunging body temperature. By the time I got to the back door, there was snow swirling around me.
In Utah, if you don't like the season, wait a day.
1 comment:
If Rockie, the mechanic from my old bus job read this entry, he would say,"Well, that's global cooling for you. Heh. Take that liberal democrap hippies". I miss him.
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