Yesterday morning when the dogs and I stepped outside about 7:30 am, it was 60 degrees. Didn't even need a jacket until it started raining.
Later in the morning we were having a nice, gentle rain. Without warning a white light filled the house accompanied by an ear-splitting boom. My brain said, "propane explosion" and I was surprised to be alive a second later. It was some strange lightening that didn't seem to hit anywhere.
Glory, the big dog, shook with fear and Sunny ran under the bed. The power stayed on, our computers and appliances didn't fry, and the rain continued to gently fall. Very weird.
This morning when the dogs and I stepped outside for the first time, it was 35 degrees, the wind was blowing, and the temperature was falling. We're still waiting (but not impatiently) for the first snowfall. There are weather prediction rumors that it's going to happen on Thanksgiving Day.
Firearm deer hunting season started on the 15th. Gun shots could be heard during morning walks and evening walks. When I take the dogs out, I wear red and sing. I figure the singing will run any nearby deer away and keep the hunters from shooting me. So far it's working.
Sunday morning the 21st the yard was full of deer eating acorns when I looked out the window at the beginning of sunrise. While I hate to think of any of those beautiful deer getting shot, I have to admit the herd needs to be thinned and there aren't enough local hunters to do it. Or maybe, considering all the gunshots, there are just too many deer.
I've been knitting on the size 14 feet of Brother Dave's Christmas Socks. 94 rows from the gusset to the start of the toe decreases. Round and round and round we go.
Just because it doesn't seem right to have a post without a picture, here's another picture of non-productive snowclouds on a gray November day. . .