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Two seasons
Ancient wisdom, hidden (as is often the case) in a jest: Maine has two seasons -- Winter and July.
It's July.
Spent a couple of hours prospecting my latest downtown renovation project. This one Wife has christened "The starling graveyard." Several corpses, scattered hither and yon in advanced decay. Apparently the openings are too small for pigeons.
Hot and dusty and generally repellent. Maybe I should have gone the "society architect" route, after all.
It's July.
Spent a couple of hours prospecting my latest downtown renovation project. This one Wife has christened "The starling graveyard." Several corpses, scattered hither and yon in advanced decay. Apparently the openings are too small for pigeons.
Hot and dusty and generally repellent. Maybe I should have gone the "society architect" route, after all.