Air temperature 50 F, light northerly breeze, scattered thin clouds. I have performed half my duty to society by taking out the trash. Will get out for a walk later, petting any cats that make themselves available.
Brains are weird things. Today, mine offered up an orchestral rendition of "The March of the Trolls" by Grieg. At least I was able to identify it. Sometimes I can't ID my subconscious's tidbits.
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timeasmymeasure