I had a couple of days off and went up to the cottage. At the landing where we keep our boat we were unloading the van when I cut my thumb on a razor snips (or the package it came in). I screamed, threw everything down and had to tend to the 3/4 inch slice on the pad of my thumb. In the meantime Lincoln came up and hid in the van, maybe hiding from the razor snips that will bite for no reason.
It was cool at night, enough for a small fire just to keep warm. A very restful night and in the morning I woke up to a cacophony of sound. It surrounded the cabin and kept growing louder. Now fully awake I opened the door and saw a murder of crows. Crows everywhere, they filled the trees, chatting about crow stuff, flying in swarms. I have never seen so many crows at the cottage.
The porch roof still leaks so once again we were up there patching away. Dad brought out an old bike that he rode around the yard with Lincoln biting the wheels then just running beside him. Poor puppy, he is sore and limping when he gets up.