We’re having seriously gruesome weather, pummelling rain and gales—hellhounds and I were nearly swept off to Oz or the Land of Green Ginger out hurtling this afternoon*—and I can’t stay on line long enough to edit and post a more-than-six-lines entry.

This is just to tell you that there are no new melodramas in the McKinley-Dickinson ménage.  IT’S ONLY THE WEATHER.

See you tomorrow, I hope.

* * *

* Pav is too low-slung to be in danger.  In this weather you want to be built like a brick.