Virginia Creeper, vines and ivy grasping and twining, are rioting towards the house. The drought is over, and the seasons spiders are on the prowl indoor, and meshing up every flight path from wall to frond out.
MadMog passing through, battered one spider to death in a cat kerfuffle and was most proud of herself. Not so well bred but she's too well fed to eat it.
Swung past the studio late afternoon and there, things were drying nicely so I didn't stay to watch.
Baled out half-way through a mawkish play about fighter pilots. It was the dialogue breaking into verse that did for me.
Post Hoc yesterday - after this, therefore because of this?
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