"BOSS, HOW ABOUT A QUARTERBACK SNEAK TO THE BEACH?"
Monday, 9:00 AM. 1 degree F at the ferry dock and on the back porch. Wind WNW, calm with light gusts. The sky is clearing. The humidity is 74% and the barometer still falling, currently at 30.05". Snow showers are predicted for tonight and tomorrow.
Yesterday was absolutely lousy, weather-wise; temperature around zero, snow, fog, ice, dark. It was a challenge taking Buddy for several short walks and I did not think it wise to risk a nasty fall anywhere so we pretty much hung out and watched football, which fortunately was quite good.
The Minnesota Vikings succumbed to the Seattle Sea Hawks, 10 to 9; and the Packers revived to beat the Redskins 35 to 18 . Buddy crawled up into my lap and watched attentively for quite a while but lost interest when nothing that resembled a bird crossed the screen. He kept looking at me as if to say, "Hey, Boss! Let's go to the beach!" I told him we would both freeze half to death out there but he obviously remembers that he has a jacket to wear when the winter weather gets really bad (he wore it this morning).
After a long while he left in disgust and retreated to the bedroom, and didn't come out until he was called to dinner.
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