The rain woke me up, battering in gusts against my bedroom window and through the semi-consciousness of half-sleep I dimly heard a huge crash that was followed, said Dad later, by a brief but really heavy flurry of snow which soon changed to rain.
Otherwise, intermittently showery and dark or blustery and blue. Brilliant sun with hail and sleet.
I started reading Booker T. Washington’s Up From Slavery but mostly lazed about in classic fashion, wasting so much time as usual.
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