Doesn't look like it will any time soon. By the time this band of rain that starts in south Texas and is working its way north through Minnesota has come and gone, I predict the building of at least one ark. My sympathies today are with my sons - one of whom spends many of his days driving all over the metro area, checking on the properties his company services with lawn care and landscaping and the other who is, as I write, out in the rain, playing in the mud, either loading trucks with his forklift or moving pallets of soil and mulch from one place to another. They don't complain. They are employed.
I don't care what the skeptics say. Anyone with even a hint of arthritis in various joints of the body will swear that rain equals pain. Therefore, you will find me over in that recliner in the corner, coffee mug on the table next to me, Kindle in hand, covered toes to chin in my green, fuzzy blanket. Most times I will work my way through it, but just for today I believe I will take the easier road and rest. This aging thing is a bugger sometimes.
Opus 2017-415: The Original Big Ten
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