|Moisture Map: we live in the red, northeast of Wynyard about 30 miles. Click on image to enlarge.|
For the story (or non-story, to be honest; dull reading), click here.
We're off to town in a half hour, so Everett can drive, and drive, and drive some more. We'll do laundry, pick up Emil, get groceries (his favourite place to go is the Co-op Store, though he doesn't help me shop) and probably treat ourselves to something from the local drive-thru, which opened for the season just a week ago. Everett is dying for an ice cream Blizzard. The sun is shining so it seems appropriate; I have just paid off the last $300 of debt I had in the world, and am forthwith footloose and fancy-free, so I deserve a milkshake. And it's the weekend! My work week is nearly done except for a few hours I'll put in over the next two days. Scott has earned us a steak supper tomorrow night; sometimes his clients spoil him (and as a result, me) when he's finished a job. Anyone's cooking but mine — yippee! I was all over that invitation.
And that is life down on the farm ....