Sparky woke me this morning with his dream-speak.  The sky looked splendid, so I got out of bed and took a photo.

Red sky at night, sailors’ delight.
Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.

I don’t know if this counts as a red sky, but doesn’t matter.  We have been productive enough to earn our keep.

Sparky isn’t so sure, and thinks we might want to pick up a rotisserie chicken just to be safe.