Wednesday, March 23, 2011
On the fourth day
I finally broke down and restarted the second stove. The woodpile shrinketh, the wind bloweth, and even the sun is pale and wan. The gods saw, and chuckled.
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Life is too short: eat dessert instead
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Blog Archive (comments welcome anywhere)
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2011
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March
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- The stuff dreams are made of
- hark to the voice
- why i no longer burn brushpiles in the middle of t...
- The Horses--Edwin Muir
- Passwords are taking over the world, arrrgghhh
- Ruminations
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- Cuffy 2007-2011
- When you have an old cat, and it gets sick and die...
- First day of spring
- And on the second day of spring
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- On the fourth day
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March
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Mother and babies
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