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The ceiling fans make a cool breeze, but the wind outside is a thin-bladed knife if you're into cliches, and if you're not.
Yesterday's snow is bright light and blue shadow as the sun makes water drip, sparkling. Icicles capture the clarity, look as though they'd taste kinetic. As a child, I would put them in my mouth.
I could hang laundry in this weather were I inclined, some of the moisture would evaporate, but the wind stands between me and the clothesline.
I should plant a holly. In my dream of a massive house, I had one to the right for protection. I could look it up online to plant in the spring. We'll have to start a compost heap, too, though I don't know if we'll be able to keep the dogs and chickens out of it.
Joe bought a bag of kibble for Bob the cat. I put a dish of it in the shed for him to nibble on, nights. It may also draw mice which will amuse him.
After reading My Side of the Mountain when I was ten, I used to soothe myself to sleep by imagining that I lived in a little concrete house in the middle of the woods. I would be a shy, wild forager who needed nobody. Reality manifest is never as fine as the inspiration, but often pretty fine at that.
Yesterday's snow is bright light and blue shadow as the sun makes water drip, sparkling. Icicles capture the clarity, look as though they'd taste kinetic. As a child, I would put them in my mouth.
I could hang laundry in this weather were I inclined, some of the moisture would evaporate, but the wind stands between me and the clothesline.
I should plant a holly. In my dream of a massive house, I had one to the right for protection. I could look it up online to plant in the spring. We'll have to start a compost heap, too, though I don't know if we'll be able to keep the dogs and chickens out of it.
Joe bought a bag of kibble for Bob the cat. I put a dish of it in the shed for him to nibble on, nights. It may also draw mice which will amuse him.
After reading My Side of the Mountain when I was ten, I used to soothe myself to sleep by imagining that I lived in a little concrete house in the middle of the woods. I would be a shy, wild forager who needed nobody. Reality manifest is never as fine as the inspiration, but often pretty fine at that.