When the gales of November come . . . late

Wet and windy again, forecast of _heavy_ rain tonight (listen to the basement gurgle) and gusts up over 40 mph. Got my walk in this morning, thank you.

Meanwhile, back in the world of GHOST POINT, The Brat has just blasted six beer cans twice each in under ten seconds with a 9mm automatic she's barely big enough to hold, leaving The Shrew wondering just _what_ she's wandered into.