This being Minnesota, it couldn't have lasted forever, the stolen treasure that is Indian summer. The trees let go of their leaves in the rain over the last few days. The horses are getting wooly. The girls don't have to be hounded to put on a jacket. Sweaters, anyone?
Um, yes. Careful observers will notice the skein of yarn in my rather messy closet, which doesn't look quite that bad in person. Honest. I put it there to keep it away from the puppy jaws of death, and clearly forgot to bring it downstairs to join its friends in the stash.
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