Oh, it was coming down hard, and I loved it. Sittin' in front of the computer, rain smashin' against the window, and a cup of tea on the table behind me; since we did not bring food or liquids anywhere near the computer. Not that the particular wide-based cup design meant for sea vessels was goin' to tip over very easily, but still. . .
The night was slow for news. One mellow day before house cleanin'. I was goin' to do breakfast in a little bit, after I took care of the equines, and took my shower. I think I was goin' to get elaborate. Crepes stuffed with a mushroom and veggie mixture. Pineapple juice, tay, hashed browns with onions and garlic, devilled eggs, and buttered crumpets. I'd make a little extra, so the equines could have some. Maybe two crepes a piece, two crumpets, and a cup of hashed browns. A nice little snack. They'd get the leftovers of the skinned pineapples I put through the juicer. They loved that.
The Gothic Writers Guild is down as I write this. I rather anticipate that is a temporary situation, but shoite happens. I don't really dig it, but such is existence in the Physical Realm. The place where one has very limited control of one's circumstances.
Oh well. I'll deal with it. Ultimately, it's of no consequence. So the site is down for a couple of hours.
And what if it went away? Well, I'd go away, too. I may be a little bummed out, but I'd get over it in no time. At least I'd get back to a more comfortable environment sooner. The environment where I belong. I have a strange feelin' that's not going to happen, though.
Now it's getting close to 5:00 AM. I guess I'll close up, feed the cats, and do my thing with the stables, and the equines.
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