Thursday, April 25, 2013

Emdot: Meandering Streamies

Marya appears to live in one of the most beautiful places on the planet. 

And man, does that woman have an eye for a photo.

If you didn't follow the link I left in my last entry, do it now. You won't be sorry.

Oh Where Oh Where Have the Comments All Gone

There's water. It IS spring.
Oh where oh where can they be?

This friggin' template ... hm ... much as it's fun, who wants to have to search for things? Rzzzl Frzzzl Grrr, as the Divine Marya has said.

I'll get around to changing the template. You know I will. That's half the pleasure of blogging: rearranging things. Heh. Designer wanna-be.




Icy and Snowy and Slushy, Oh MY

Our yard is still full of snow and slush and water, but the road I walk on is dry.
I had to wear my ski pants and winter jacket, and mitts! yesterday to walk. And Sorels to get past the driveway without wet feet. The wind was icy mean and cut glass shards into my fingers when they nakedly operated the camera.

According to outlaw-sis Laurel, up near Flin Flon they got six inches of snow the night before last.

The snow and cold and late spring is on everyone's lips. It's on the local radio programs. It's probably on the tv news.

But the sun is shining and I've got warm clothes and no water in the basement. You'll hear no complaints from me about the weather. It is what it is.

Aunt Reta:  Tell Carl I will be getting back to his manuscript shortly so he had best polish up his spectacles and prepare for Incoming! mail.

Yesterday I finished my 10-year stint with TCE and now intend to put some time into other projects that have been on the back burner. Like my uncle's memoir; he's a pretty good storyteller. Like cleaning up the office; papers have been piling up. I have another job too; check out Straight Goods News. I've been doing their social media outreach for several months and saying "Paid to read the news? Can't beat that!"

There are other irons in the fire, too, that please the heck out of me, but mostly what I'm looking forward to is the frog spring chorus. You know, if the snow melts. I mean, when.