Nov. 12th. Minnesota. 62 Degrees?
That’s it. I’ve had it.
Hook Patti Beagle up.
We’re goin’ out there, girl.
Daughter Dawn would be really pissed off
If she knew we were pulling a fast one, He, he.
What your kids don’t know, don’t hurt ‘em.
The old codger’s got a few tricks left.
Enough of cabin fever
Before it’s time has come.
Five weeks in a sling.
Screw it, We’re outta here.
Saw a V of Canada geese headin’ south
Honking in derision.
As if to say
So long, suckers.
Saw a pile of deer scat.
Reminds me. Son Steve is still hunting up north.
2nd weekend & no sign of deer.
Heaven help us; he’s praying for snow.
I managed quite well, though tired.
I can handle the ‘Ol hound dog,
Nose to the ground,
With one arm as well as two.
Here in Minnesota, a day like this
Is too precious to waste.
The days grow too short.
“Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.” (1)
(1) – Dylan Thomas.