Weather, sitting beneath

A few random thoughts:
If we call the ugly hot weather of mid to late summer the "dog days of summer", are the miserable days of late autumn and early winter the "cat days of winter"? Around here, the cats are intent on spending time on me.

The weather forecast for the space shuttle must be boring. "Hey Joe, what's the weather today?" "Sunny, dark, sunny, dark, sunny, dark, sunny, dark, (repeat to a total of sixteen), either 600 above or absolute zero, with no chance of precipitation."

I closed the storm windows yesterday, because I'd forgotten to earlier in the year. The house is a solid five degrees warmer this morning. Looks like I'll be re-glazing some windows in the spring, too.

It's December. Can we please stop with the rain and make with the snow? Please? Z much prefers looking for brown deer on white snow, instead of brown deer on brown leaves.

I shot at (and missed) a doe last week: from about 60 yards, I hit the ONLY branch between us, sending the slug off to who-knows-where. The deer wandered off. I did check very carefully for blood or hair where she'd been - and where she wandered - and found nothing.

The deer that I got ten days ago has been fully processed. There are two trussed loin roasts in the freezer, and the rest was ground. Nine-plus pounds of grind, and about 12 pounds of sausage in one form or another.

Another deer would be really nice about now...

On that note, it's time to make cocoa and read a few more chapters!