Two weeks later and I’m still wrestling with the fact that the G-Man told someone we were going to Oscarbrate on the evening of the Oscars. Never mind that it sounds a little sketchy. I can’t get over Mr. G verbizing a noun, and a proper noun at that.
Each day I wonder — If I go outside and see my shadow, will it add six more weeks to winter? It already feels like the winter that will never end. The Neverending Winter… without a Luck Dragon.
I’m so over soup, stew, chili, pork roast, roast chicken, roast anything, and ROOT vegetables.
Yeah. They are root vegetables non grata.
The fruit and vegetable section of the market is looking mighty thin. I paid a dollar for a single lemon. One. Une. Uno. Einer. And didn’t bat an eye.
I drink lemon or lime water every day, because I’m fixated on scurvy.
Yeah. One of those winters.
I look at PEI and wonder how I ever waxed enthusiastically about moving there. Like that’s going to happen now. Toronto, honey, you are looking mighty fine, even if you had the coldest recorded winter temps in your history. I won’t be throwing you over or under the bus for PEI. New Brunswick, you’ve been put on the naughty list, too, even though you have a wild beauty that I love. #sorrynotsorry
I’m contemplating shooting icicles off the rain gutters like skeet.
Just below this fence section is my garden box, aka the crypt. Doesn’t that look just like a head about to pop through the snow? Below that is the eye of an alligator, aka some straw bale peeking through.
Every day, I run to the mailbox hoping to find the travel guides on London, Paris, and Ireland that are due to arrive any minute. I’ve already read through Amsterdam, Switzerland, Great Britain, and Italy. Somebody wants to get out of town.
This is a shot that got the Glaze App treatment. How fun is that?
Hump Day… You’re standing between me and my travel guides. Outta my way.