Fall Saturday

Suddenly it's the monsoon season here – rain 'til snow –  and boy do I miss Indian summer. It gets rainy and dreary in late fall. It's enough to make me long for snow to brighten up the landscape. The forecast is a heavy-rain-flood-warning for tonight, and I'm worried about the dry well overflowing and all the ceilings leaking. That happened three years ago. Water everywhere. We were pushing water out the back door with snow shovels.

So I'm a little worried, but haven't done a thing about it. I feel like it's going to be OK. Magical thinking? Laziness? Stupidity? Probably. I should go look on the weather site for rainfall stats during that bad episode, and find out exactly how much rain is too much for our drains. Hmm.
Then I could base my magical thinking on scientific fact.

The kitchen keets are thriving. I cleaned their box today, and made them a dozen or so meals. They like grass, stolen from the rabbits' bowl of greens, finely chopped. They had oatmeal, stolen from the dogs' breakfast. And several servings of chicken crumbles in warm water. And some breadcrumbs. And cornmeal.

Earl and I boobled to the barn and served up a couple of bales of hay. There was no spitting. Tricks the sheep and the little goat brother were out, and Earl was no help getting them back in.

Made bread and rolls (thank you, bread machine). Made an apple crisp with blueberries. Better without the blueberries.

C. hauled in eight enormous cabbages for sauerkraut. It took both of us to carry a bin of four of them.  She's working on an amazing baby blanket for our impending grand-/great-grandchild. (Our generations are a bit muddled. We consider our grandson a son, since we raised him. But his brother is a grandson. Are you confused yet?) C. bought the fabric in Montreal at a cool little store in the Textile District. (If you have to live in a city, by all means choose one with a textile district. And a metro system. Montreal is an amazing and wonderful place.)

Piled more wood on the porch before the big rain. Put a tarp on the main wood pile. Replaced the busted pane in one chicken-house window. (C. had kindly removed the old putty and glass.)

I've taken a huge step and applied for leave and disability since my MS has worsened. Working has become a huge struggle, and I hope I can stop, slow or even reverse some disease progression without the stress of deadlines and clients and an ever-increasing workload. It'll be weird to leave after nearly 26 years, though. I'll have to haul serious ass to finish all my jobs in my remaining time. Then pack up my cluttered office. And try to get by on much less money. No stress there!

C. has taken the pink 1959 Fridgidaire stove apart ("Grody!" she cried, and got out the scouring powder) all over the kitchen and is scrubbing various bits.

We managed to get some mushroom drool in the printer when C. brought home some Slippery Jacks  and left them next to the computer for identification. I mopped it out as best I could. Hope our mushroom-hunting hobby hasn't killed our only working printer.

Off to feed the rabbits. It's a full life, even in slo-mo.