Or perhaps it is six. (Storm fronts, that is.)
The ground is as soggy as the horse. The horse refuses to be locked up at night, which is what I would prefer so that she at least has a small chance of drying out over night. I think the winds spook her a bit, and I can't force her to be in a place that could trap her and cause her harm. There are now axle breaking pot holes in the driveway. And yes, I still have no home phone service. (Note made: call Century Tel for service date.) I suit up in warm coat and big yellow Gorton Fisherman hat to run the dogs. They still need their work outs, and they still get at least three trips out. The tennis balls emit an amazing spray as they sail across the field. Neither dog is willing to catch a ball on the fly now; has a dog ever died from drowning follow inhalation of tennis ball splash? One of the most interesting things about corgis is the way their coats shed the dirt and mud. About an hour after coming in the house they are dry and clean. Not show ring clean, but I am willing to let them on my bed and they leave no visible signs of dirt. It's pretty amazing. Any way, I am loving my truck. It sits a bit higher than the older truck. Driving home from the city yesterday I saw a lot of cars and trucks hydroplaning on the road. I am thinking my truck has a pretty clean under carriage, but it stuck to the road like it was glued there. I really hate the feeling of suddenly floating and felt it often in the Nissan. While the street sweeper and plow trucks are out in force trying to keep the storm drains clear, it seems almost impossible at this point. Sheets of water run down the street carrying the alder leaves that are still falling with it. While I am tired of the gray, and tired of wet foot, I am surprisingly still "up" mentally and emotionally. I think it must be exercise related as I am just getting back on track with the work outs. I feel a bit like a "reformed smoker" in that my solution to the world's woes seems to be more exercise. It is pretty simple really, and the dollar output, if needed, surely must be worth the quality and length of life benefits. While I am on the treadmill now, I look forward to getting out in the weather and doing the "real thing" soon. I need to rebuild the callous on the stump and now that the prosthetics are back up to snuff that work has begun. I rather enjoy breaking through that wall that comes at about the mile mark. (It amazes me how quickly I lost all the stamina following surgery; I hope it returns as quickly.)
So now I sit and type. One of dogs is to my left. She is REALLY into licking a cheap and funky upholstered foot stool thing that is sitting there. I don't know what the deal is, but she cleans that thing as meticulously as she cleans Henry's ears. I wonder if it the texture. She has never tried to chew it. She just sits and licks on it. Strange, strange dog. I adore her. What does that say about me? Hmmmm.
The pitter patter on the skylight has softened so it is time to go out and feed the horse and run the dogs. Another fall day has arrived in Kingston. While I miss the dry, and I miss the warmth, this is life in November in the Seattle area and I will take it. Then again, I really don't have a lot of choice, do I?