Dear Kid,
Winter is coming! Unless it’s Spring. No, I think it’s winter. Except it’s 90 degrees outside. Wait, wait, that’s snow. Definitely winter.
More like definitely confusing. The weather has no idea if it’s coming or going. And it doesn’t seem to care one bit that Mr. Phil Groundhog himself already declared that winter will stick around. It seems Mother Nature trumps Mr. Groundhog each and every time and right now Mother Nature is suffering from an Advanced Case of Indecision.
Meanwhile, your father has tapped the maple grove (and by “maple grove” I mean the one maple tree in our front yard). The first day the sap ran (or sort of meandered—I think it forgot its jogging shoes) into the spile and the jug. Then nothing seemed to actually happen. Turns out the sap has frozen. In the spile. In the tubing. And in the jug. Maple syrup will have to wait.
In other news, I’ve heard rumors that the Dust Dragons are organizing and plan to take over. I’ve considered sending the Puppy as an envoy, but I’m concerned he’ll get eaten. I’ve thought about attacking with the vacuum cleaner, but that seems like a somewhat rash and unnecessary act of housekeeping. I’m hoping they’ll just settle down and go back to being decorative.
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