For most of last week, we had pleasant if not cheerful skies and slowly cooling temperatures. We should. It's autumn and this is, after all, New England-actually Southern New England which I think is supposed to mean we say "y'all" after telling you to "pahk yah cah on Hahvard Yahd."
On Saturday, while Thelma and Louise were heading to Target in Lisbon (look at any map; we are much close to Portugal than mainstream media has ever been willing to admit- Ann Coulter and Glenn Beck are right!) and ended up at Ikea in New Haven, not Stockholm, it was nice enough I headed to a local point of interest, Lowthorpe Meadows.
It's a piece of wild across the street from the Norwichtown Commons where we all shop and, judging from the comments I hear, dislike all the stores that are there and wish there were unspecified other shops, different but somehow selling the same things. You shouldn't pay us too much mind, as we would bitch if you hanged us with a new rope.
It was a brisk walk as temperatures probably only got to about 60 Fahrenheit, downhill, though by the time we got to yesterday morning, I (for one) looked back at Saturday's temperatures rather fondly.
I slept in until nearly eight and I have a service that tells my cell-phone every morning at oh bright early what the temperature is. Yesterday it was thirty, technically speaking below freezing though I didn't see any polar bears on Washington Street (a couple of empty Coke bottles but the penguins collected those to redeem for the deposit).
And there was a breeze more like a wind, so despite the sunny skies, it was a nippy day. Felt like it might snow; if you live someplace where it does snow, you know what I mean; if you don't, no amount of explanation would make 'feels like snow' meaningful (and yes, I hate you)
Ideal for going to our library's book sale, which I always think should be better attended, but this way there's more books for me and I had plenty, thank you. From what I understand the TV folks to say, it should warm up in the course of this week back into the lower sixties which is more than fine by me but who are we kidding, summer's gone and we are in New England. Stay frosty.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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