The Days Pause.

Rough night. Rough days ahead. The diary is mine, but sometimes the story is not mine to tell. As often as not, I’m on the outside, a spectator to things that I play only a peripheral role in. I may be writing from my point of view, but that doesn’t necessarily make me the central…

A “Pet” Peeve.

I believe strongly in humane handling of animals. I do not support PETA, an organization known to twist the truth and deliberately mislead people regarding animal handling and dietary issues. I do not necessarily encourage anyone who reads my diary to sign the petition discussed in the following article. I do urge them to become…

Waiting

It’s half-heartedly snowing outside again. The sky is silver, the air is so cold it cuts at the back of your nose like a knife, and the lighting is too bright for a day with no sun. The snow isn’t coming down in proper flakes, but instead in little shards and slivers, like tiny little…

Monday, Moan-Day

Why is it that the weather only acts up when I refuse to take the weather forecast seriously? If they forecast half a foot of snow and I pay heed, then the only way you could actually measure six inches of snow is if you took every single snowflake that fell and stack them one…