Busy, busy, busy
Mr. Fuzzy was out of town on business much of last week - more on that in a subsequent post.
He returned Saturday evening right after dark, narrowly missing three deer trying to commit suicide in the last thirty miles of the drive homeward. Sunday saw a myriad of activities including (but not limited to): transplanting iris from underneath two apples trees (they never have received enough solar embraces to bloom so the color is unknown), washing and waxing Miss Betty, the 1940 Ford coupe, washing the front and side of the garage (removing some of the algae and mold which grows on the north side of buildings here), etc. In short, all out of doors activities performed on a glorious, sunny, 68F (20C) day. That may have been the last opportunity for such activities this season as a cold front now draws down upon the farm, threatening to drop the high temperatures by at least ten degrees and bringing the nights back to sub-freezing conditions. Most likely the woodpile will soon be consulted.
Today was the transition perhaps from a mild autumn into a more seasonable pre-winter condition. It also saw Mr. Fuzzy in transition, being dragged yelling and screaming into the 21st century. Whilst away last week, his simple four year old cell became severely unreliable, seizing up or discharging the battery in a matter of less than three hours. He had already noted that everyone else (about 400 souls) at the meeting wielded an iPhone or its equivalent and that the meeting had its own apps and Twitter hastags.
As of 1:35 p.m. this afternoon, Mr. Fuzzy began the long journey of learning to use an Apple 4S phone.
Should you have any favorite apps - or warnings about bad apps, he would be most grateful for your illuminating criticisms.
Modern times, brace yourself for Mr. Fuzzy's impending arrival.