Seriously, I haven’t seen the mud this bad since maybe monsoon 2013. I genuinely didn’t think I would successfully get up Landlady’s driveway for morning chicken chores. It appears to have rained all night, which was not forecast so we’re in extra innings now, and the mud didn’t freeze overnight, and I wish I could show you the Jeep.
Torso Boy got stuck a couple of evenings ago, and that must be an alarming experience for a short-legged dog because it had an immediate effect on his preferred habits. Seriously, we were out for the evening poop when he found a patch of especially well-soaked ash and his paws disappeared into it. A longer-legged dog could have just pulled them free and reached for better footing but he found that difficult at first. He managed it himself just before I gave up on the situation and waded in to the rescue but since then he has refused to visit his habitual dumping ground. I can hardly blame him – this morning it was so bad he went out for the morning walky and just squatted on the ground next to the porch – he hasn’t done that since that bout of pancreatitis last summer. He’s just thoroughly sick of wading in mud and I’m not in a position to criticize.
My nice new batteries are down to 12 point two something volts, as low as I’ve ever seen them; this is the third straight day without a taste of sun. It’s supposedly going to change tomorrow, but then it was supposedly going to change today. Tomorrow I may actually have to run the generator to charge the house batteries; that has never happened since the solar upgrades started to bite.
How long does it take for seasonal affective disorder to kick in?