Greetings, my fellow port swillers!
A cloudy, cool, quiet, mid-autumn day in the neighborhood of Port Swiller Manor today. The Eldest Gel and I were discussing the weather not too long ago and agreed that the very best time of the year in these parts is from about the middle of October on up until around Thanksgiving.
So ol’ Robbo spent the morning pottering around the yard doing autumnal things. I mowed the grass for what will probably be the last time this year. I cut back the peonies and brought their stands in. I took down the hummingbird feeder. And I had a bash at the current crop of fallen leaves, some with the mower and some with rake and tarp. We’ve had very little rain recently, so they’re all nice and crisp and quickly break up into mulch, rayther than smothering everything under them in a dank blanket. (They’re also easier to haul out into the woods for dumping.)
Finishing up around noon, I thought I could spend the bulk of the afternoon loafing but suddenly got one of those infernal phone calls: Mrs. Robbo was down at the Post Office with the Middle Gel getting the latter her passport and I needed to haul myself thither because it turns out it’s necessary for both parents to witness a youngling’s application or else provide suitable documentation why only one has legal custody. (I think this has to do with people trying to sneak their kids out of the country without their ex’s knowledge or approval, but I’m not sure. Thankfully, I know almost nothing about custody battles and most likely never will.)
Grumble, grumble, grumble.
Mrs. R and the Gel had been sitting around and waiting since around 10 A.M. I got there around 12:30 and spent another two hours listening to babies squeal and limited-English types having their application errors explained to them. (Middle Gel remarked that it was worse than the DMV.) Fortunately, the pace of processing rayther picked up toward the end, as it seems a lot of people simply gave up waiting, so our turn came faster.
Oh, and there were a couple of teenagers with clipboards out front shilling for Bernie Sanders. Idjits.
Fortunately, it’s all over and done now and din-din supplies have been got from the store, so I can now make myself a cup o’ tea and get down to that loafing.