Clear today. No wind. High 52.

Perfect weather to cut firewood.

Once I got going, I started peeling off the layers.

I was down to short sleeves by Noon.
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"Filet that fish? Hell naw! I'll scale him, gut him, fry him up in grease, take him by the head and tail, and play him like a French Harp!" - Uncle Paul sometime in the 60s.