too much, too often, too soon, too late.

damn, neighbors-
too much is the right amount,
that's the rules.
but it's a real rat-bastard when that means that every single day off,
for two months straight,
is a gross wet rainy one....
that's too much,
and \rules is rules,
so i'm on track, but i'm NOT happy about it-
...especially when there's only one day a week to get all that needs doing
accomplished in an efficient, effective, and fully-activated manner.
what a bummer.
so,
with the clouds crying overhead,
and the knifing cold that slices and bleeds into and out of my bones
in this damp doo-doo buttery perpetual grey lightlessness-
yard working hasn't really been on the schedule.
and snow is a looming, leering, laughing, mocking mess of
impending impediments to any future late fall landscaping progress.
hard styles,
and deadlines that feel more like dead-in-the-still-watery-depths
are all that remain as the pittery pats of drops after droplet drum out a death knell
on the cold corrugated metal rooftops of this Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
i know it's a thing that has to happen,
but rain is an A*-hole.
thanks nature.
you win, again.
and i won't be slogging through the leafy soup on the lawn,
nor will i be mowing/mulching/making a mess of the piles and heaps of sodden suckiness
that you've doused and drenched in weak sauce.
however,
that doesn't mean it leisure time in the woodsly goodness.
heck no.
i've been running around like a lightning-striking blitzkrieg barbarian-
a beast-handling bull terrier trainer;
and an XI-mas deal-making super-shopper;
and an amateur plumber-(thanks, kids);
and a go-gettin' grocery-gettin' get-busy baker;
and that's in-between dog walks,
and wet, bedraggled and taciturn tours
through the nights and mornings with crabtree,
while he sh!ts through the drizzles, and i get dripped on.
yuck.
at least ampy-d knows how to warm a fella up.
check the teleport:

mmmmmmmm.
soup is good for you,
and it tastes better when it's served hot, wet, and ready,
by a lady.
that's no joke.
i'll take what i can get in the help department, duders.
and i'll eat it by the bowful if there's a spoon handy.
**********
i baked treats in the morning,
i bought gifts in the afternoon,
and i took the gang for a drippy low-visibility after-dark car ride through
the backroads and byways of our mountain vale.
my little puppy-man is growing faster than his body can keep up with,
and yet again, his F*ing ears are drooping.
i wish i could articulate more accurately the angst and anxiety this gives me.
suffice to say, he hasn't noticed, and i can't sop staring.
it's just another 'nother small inconvenience that multiplies the degree of
dread, dreariness, and drudgery that weigh down on my alwayses.
yeah.
like all my always, always, all the time, day in and out, time after time.
tell you what-
that's depressing,
but this cake, just in passing, as a preview, looks like a robot butthole.
teleport:

right?
i know.
and you're welcome.
it's all really happening,
and i s'pose it'll get better,
or worse,
or both,
or neither;
never quiet, never soft.....