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Halfway Up The Slope
Yeah, right, Okay, I get it, snow.
Didn't get anymore accumulation last night so the four inches on the ground which has melted to about three inches, and then been assaulted by much colder temperatures so that it is crackly crunchy, is all there is. They say we could get more fresh stuff today but I don't believe it.
I have four rooms to paint, ceilings, walls and woodwork, over the next few days so I need to get on with it. One of the rooms is this one, yeah, and this red easy chair in front, or is it behind? the flat panel, often calls to me--sit a spell, stare at the screen, look for something. Don't take this the wrong way please but I could probably benefit from a light whipping. Just a get off your ass sort of thing, Ok, I don't want to dress up or anything.
I have paused in the reading of a friend of a friend's novel to finally read a friend's mystery novel that I brought with me but could never pick up due to all the noise in my head and the powerful lulling of that noise by the mountains and sky and green grass. My friend is hilarious though and gots great tempo and it's nice spending the evenings with her words and ideas.
I got stuck coming up the driveway yesterday, just inside the gate, my tires for shit on snow. I wanted to not look like a total pussy to all the four-wheel truck driving locals so I later made the 200 yard walk down the hill and with some effort and minimal expertise got the truck halfway up the slope, into the guesthouse driveway.
New Snow, Old P...
Ok, first, and I'm sure most of you already know this, but--the penis is 425 million years old. There is a lot of seemingly more pertinent stuff on Google News this morning but that's the one I'm bringing home.
It's a good thing I didn't shave my head recently--sure, all freaks think about it from time to time--because I needed something to cover my ears just now on my morning walk in the freezing rain crunching through four inches of fresh snow. Scarfs are good too but Southern boys don't always have a scarf handy so I wrapped my neck in a dirty long sleeve t-shirt. As it turns out I don't have a whole lot to say about my forty acres of virgin snow. It is pretty. It is white. And I don't have a tobaggon. I guess I can always take consolation in the fact that my penis is 425 million years old, give or take.