It is November 2nd. I am sitting at the patio table on the deck of my in-laws home in Hampton Bays. It is just gorgeous out — sunny and 65 degrees. I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt in November!. Maximus is chewing on a fallen tree branch, and keeping the backyard safe from squirrels. John Coltrane & Johnny Hartman are on the CD player.
I am smoking a Bering cigar (given to me by Phil Smolowitz of RBC Dain), drinking some thick mud I brewed this morning, working my way thorugh Barron’s.
Update: 3:30pm Back from the beach; Max and I went in the NY ocean on November 2! Insane. I only went in up to my waist, while Max did the full monty. The surf was rough, and if there was anyone around who conceivably could have hauled me out if I had a problem, I would have gone all the way in. If you’re wondering, the water’s not quite as cold as on Memorial day — bracing, but not too bad.
Update Two: 8:30pm I keep asking Mrs. Big Picture why it’s so hot; She says she’s freezing. “Ohmigod, go look in the mirror.” Wow! I’m hot cause I’m am actually sunburned. In November. In NY. That’s just not right . . .
