Mornings (and days) have turned cooler here at 9, 120-feet elevation, and my thoughts have turned to frost–on windshields, on automobile bonnets, and . . . well, perhaps the couplet below will explain my early-morning, Labor Day adventure. (Darn that “boardwalk” down below in front of the Mercantile!)
It wasn’t frost on the pumpkin that laid me flat,
But an icy sidewalk where I slipped and sat.
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