great balls of ice

[vilebody]

its very hard to concentrate on reading french philosphy when there's hail pounding at your doors and windows like a giant rain-stick, and the wind whooing and roaring round the chimney like some angry deep-voiced animal. Its a good thing I'm reading about how houses come into their own in storms, how a house really becomes when it is neccessary, as shelter, as protection. Indeed.

'and the cows come in/and the cows go out/some of the lessons I've learnt/I could do without'