Sunny day, chasing the clouds away...

(An entire generation of parents warped for life by CTW. Chromosome damage possible.)

I am going to declare the grass dry-enough for mowing. The lawn looks shaggy as it is -- not going to give it the head start of another day of photons. Dunno about the WeedWhacker job, though. It needs done, in the parlance of my Pennsylvania Dutch ancestors*, but I hate coming back inside coated from hair to boot-toes in shredded weeds.

Am experiencing authorial post-partum depression on SIGNATURES. Can't get up the energy to attack revisions, or even read the (few) comments I've received on parts posted to the critique group. This is normal. I've been through it before. I will survive.

*Well, actually they'd have said it in German. According to family legend, my paternal grandmother was the first in that line who would admit to speaking English, even though the clan transplanted to the New World back around 1700. We have this genetic thing about the Old Ways.

I hate getting old

Got the yardwork done, which included, yes, the weedwhacking, and also running hand grass-snippers through the asparagus patch to remove weeds while sparing the delectables. And that involves squatting and shuffling around for a while.

Now my right knee doesn't like me. I don't know if this will kill tomorrow's bike ride. Aging sucks.