Rain, Sleet, n’Snow

Mornen’s been going like this. When the weatherman was telling us it was raining we had sunshine all over us. When I got out in it that sun that same sun hid its face. Fillip cutting up an assorted bunch of limbs laying across the last load wood we brought up I did the hard part sitting and splitting some wood chunks we’d found bigger than we thought they’d be during the first cutting. We got this first mess cleaned up about the same time all both the clock’s hands were standing straight up. Thankfully it weren’t peanut’n’jelly sandwitches today. It were baloney’n’cheese.
Lunch different it were time to hit it again. More later….
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….much later:
We’d finished knocking down a dead elm tree, split it, hauled it home, stacked, and covered it; all the while getting wetter and wetter as the afternoon wore us on. Paying little attention to the weather Fillip and I were summoned down to the lower end of our road to receive a load of finely crushed concrete we’ll use to re-bed a feeding area.
While we waited we looked into why the right headlight on the Ugly truck was one to glow a wimpish yellow rather than the full beneficial bright while light it should have been capable of. We found the headlight socket to be defective. I cut for it a replacement off the old Blue truck. The same truck donating an engine block for the Greene truck.
And, while we didn’t finish everything I had on my day’s planed work list, we considered ourselves having gotten in a good day right up until we figured it better served if we called it quits before we were any more uncomfortably cold and wet leaving us sliding into some sort of Spring sickness.
Home, wet wear shed I looked to prepare a package of old, I mean real old 5 ¼” antique black square floppy discs for either it be they down-loaded or uploaded to more modern CD’s. My hope with her help, she may gleam some of my years ago written words. Even if they’re old and stodgy I expect some of the short stories beneficial to help jog my memory of those wonderful old day’s of ours. I’d written a lot of them. Some I expect will but need some editing for proper grammar. Maybe a sentence here or there needing re-structuring.
Here I go maudlin. Time I collect myself. I’ve already stripped down to my BVD’s. Much easier to soak up the woodstove's warmth his way. Fillips fixing supper. Frieda’s looking at some old family pictures and I’m procrastinating finishing up the packaging I’ve got to get it mailed out tomorrow or Monday. Is the post office open on Saturday?
“Rainbows.”
Fernan