It’s precipitating like, very hard, man, in a variety of places, including, according to my correspondents, England. Israel and Norway are also getting pounded.
This showed up in my feed this morning courtesy of Ian Michael Walden
To quote the Two Ronnies – “It’ll be choking ’em in Wokingham, killing ’em in Gillingham, and if you live in Lissingdown, take an umbrella”.
YOINK.
Paul asked for additional support for the Yes, It Continues unpacking yesterday. We also noodled around for a while (quite a while in my case) on musical instruments and vacuumed and swept various surfaces in prep for the party on Sunday…. and Paul made pork stir fry with yellow curry sauce and quinoa and greek salad om nom nom, while I collected Keith from work. Ayesha is a TUB but so affectionate and sweet.
The downstairs neighbours are appropriately chastened that Buster wuz not a grrl.
It would be nice to have a job. This week I started pulling all my lyrics into one place; I know I’ve written a lot of songs. I’ve gotten better at it as I get older. The novel sits glaring at me.
Sandy’s pipes are frozen. My travails, in many respects, are small.
