Summer's end.

Here comes the sun ... and there it goes, right over the back of the mill. Must be autumn. This place is like freaking Stonehenge - you can set your watch to the movement of the shadows.

Well, the season passing doesn't mean much around here. I'll be honest: we of Big Green never went in for summer activities in a big way, so the warm months are just about keeping out of the sun and wearing open newspapers on your head like a tent. Unless you're Matt, of course, who wears a hat and spends half of his life out amongst the wild critters, rain or shine, snow or hail, you name it. The rest of us? We all busy ourselves with indoor activities, like bending pretzels and juggling priceless objets d'art. (That last one we don't do a real lot. Like, well ... never.)

It's hard to keep track of what our entourage is doing in any given season. Some are more active than others. Anti-Lincoln, for instance, had and idea for a discount retail business. He was going to plant it right next door to Dollar General and call the store Quarter Colonel. His business plan was to undercut the competition - everything in Dollar General is a buck; everything in Quarter Colonel would be a quarter. The cash registers were ringing in his Four score and seven blue light specials agohead like the bells of St. Mary. I know Lincoln had a reputation, perhaps apocryphal, of being a humble, frugal man of simple tastes, so true to form, his anti-matter self is the exact opposite. He's going to OWN north central Little Falls, NY .... OWN IT!

Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has been busy these waning weeks of summer. He's mostly been checking his way through my to-do list. Hey ... don't look at me like that. What would YOU do if YOU had a personal robot assistant? At least I'm not sending him out to some local small business to earn money for my ass. Though he was working for a time at a five and dime. (His boss was Mr. Magee). I don't think I have to tell you how that turned out.

So, bring on the fall, people. We've got a pack of songs ready to record. Let's track this mother! Ya-ho, ta-ho.

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