Thanks to global warming our weather patterns are so screwed up, that, instead of my breezy milkmaid costume, I will be layering housecoats and going trick or treating as Homey's sock of shit. Up here on the moutain the fields are covered in icy white, while down in the valley the grass is still green. I've never seen it this bad so early. What's to come? I don't think I want to know.
Last night I went over to Paradise Pond for a end of the summer season fish fry at Heche Kaban's. Luckily I have snow tires. In attendance were Heche, Kate, Himynameisjames, and Savage. Over the din of conversation Barrack Obama strained to make his points to the American people. There were subtitles on the power points. The guy always looks good and is so unflappable as to seemingly be Zen like. Forget President. I think he should aim higher and go for messiah. Can you vote for the rapture?
Down in the swamp I saw 20 does and two spike bucks. With the early snow, the deer are on their feet and stuffing themselves with a bumper crop of apples. It won't be long before the rut starts to kick in. (I always think election day is the start). My strategy is to resist taking a doe from my swamp stand, and wait for something big to arrive. I ran this theory by Savage and he nodded in agreement. I can try to take a doe from another stand in order to restock the larder. In the meantime I'm working on my costume and trying to stay warm. Trick or treat.
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