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I was picking raspberries when I felt it — the thinnest shift in the light and air. I paused and looked around, breathing in the faint scent of Mother Nature shaking out her nightgown.

That's when I knew. And that's when I said, "#*@&!"

Summer was gone. Regardless of what the calendar said, fall was in the air, with the gaunt figure of winter waiting in the wings.

#*@&! again. Wasn't it July just last week? Where had summer gone? I just bought a mountain bike. What about all the plans I made?

This was the summer I was going to climb King's Peak. It was also the year I planned to build a rocket launcher and a manure cannon for my grandsons. I was going to teach them how to electrocute flies.

The waning days of summer are a time of happy anticipation for some. The first sign of color on the foothills and they're waxing their boards and skis. Then they stare with increasing earnestness at the mountains. Snow. Snow.

Note: I wouldn't go so far as to call these people insane, but clearly something is wrong with them.

It's fair to ask that if I hate winter so much, why don't I do something about it other than complain? That's easy. It's because complaining is the only part of being a geezer that I'm good at right now.

I am not going to buy a condo in St. George to live in during the long winter months. St. George is full of codgers, biddies, coots, fogeys, and other buzzard bait.

You know what's worse than cabin fever or being snowbound? Spending the winter trying to get around seniors in the grocery store aisles, or driving 14 mph behind them to get there. I'm a senior, too, but not that senior. Not yet.

Nope, I'm staying here. And in doing so I'll have to accept that it's time to start thinking about preparing for the long, freezing darkness.

It's time to clear out the garden. It's easy enough to do with kerosene and a match. Then I'll need a load of mulch to winter over in the plot where tomatoes, zucchini and melons used to be.

Next will be to haul inside all of the stuff I spent the summer hauling outside — patio furniture, planting boxes, grandkid toys, cannons, garden tools, dogs, hoses, barbecue, and bug zappers.

At some point I will have to risk life and limb by test-firing the snow blower. It spent all summer in the garage. A black widow has taken up residence in the discharge chute.

The sprinkling system will need to be shut off, taken apart, and drained of vegetation, spiders and mice. The same with the bird bath. My wife doesn't think it's funny watching birds figure out that they can't skate.

I need to sand and seal the back decks for the winter, and clear out the rain gutters. I suppose I should get to the leaves and the overripe fruit that are starting to fall. Don't want to put that off too long.

It will take a couple of weeks to complete the winterize list. I still have some warm days to kick back in the raspberry plot enjoying the last bit of summer.

If I wait long enough, and the first snow is deep enough, my wife won't ever know that I didn't get it all done.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.