It's time to blog. And I've got lots of things to write about. Things like Drew Holcomb and the Red Mountain team at Workplay and the most amazing new version of Hark, the Herald Angels. Things like ponderings on the pioneers and winter bathing. Things like the Narcissa Whitman and my amazing find at Reed's Books the other day.
All deserve their very own post. And they are not going to get it tonight.
Because I'm three kinds of tired. And Jim is watching "The Royal Tenenbaums." Reasons enough. Mainly the tired part.
So here are some fragments of thanksgiving.
*Good talk with my roomie.
*Sun. Sunlight. Light. Yes. Why yes, I do get that Seasonal Affective Disorder Thing. This is why I cannot live in North Dakota. Or Seattle.
*Gray tights. I love my gray tights. They're so . . . gray.
*Uncle Marty's quick visit last night.
*Jim imitating a Minnesota accent from the next room.
*The random beagle that joined me on my arctic death march today.
Not on the list: Random gusts of cold air that come on when you are sitting right over the vent. Good night.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I hear you on that seasonal affective disorder thing. I'm going to have to walk around London with a floor lamp lamp...and a long extension chord.
Post a Comment