While temperatures in MN hover in the imaginary numbers, we've had a warm spell of late. It's the middle of December and the herb garden we inherited still has green thyme and rosemary. Thanks, previous owner hippies. Yesterday Liz picked up leaves in a tank top and I had St. Louis levels of wet boxer elastic after my ride in. But while temperatures have been mild, winds have been wild. I'm told that this is normal for Boston, and since we live on a pretty substantial hill we take its full force right in the kisser. And by kisser, I mean house. Last night was among the worst; any 'coons that may have been lingering in the trees are probably now residents of Martha's Vineyard. But hey, I'll take 60 degrees in Dec. any time. The ice storm that decimated Western Mass. last week didn't touch us, although 20 miles east of here looks like a war zone. The ocean does strange things to the weather patterns that I don't understand. Amateur meteorology was easy in MN and MO--look west, wait. That doesn't seem to work here.
In other news, I'm writing my first grant proposal. It is on Alzheimer's disease. I'm kind of new to this so I alternate between feeling like the smrtest person in the world and an incompetent boob on an hourly basis. Sadly, I think only one of those can be correct. Maybe if I cure it they will let me change the name to Sherva's disease. Rub it in the faces of those uppity Gehrigs, Hansens, Korsakoffs, and Christmases. Huh, turns out Ricketts is named after a person, probably me. With my legacy secure, I think I'll call it a day.
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