Imbolc Woodpecker Moon
The night came cold and wet, slush frozen, then snow piling up, now in the morning branches sag heavy with soggy white. A late season snow. The kind for basketball tourneys or interrupting plans. Just right for that.
Still, it’s a nod to winter, a sort of, yes, we still know how to do this kind of thing notice on the part of the weather gods. Not good for the trees or the shrubs, but, water, if it can get into the ground. Good in that way. We need more plus some.
(my photo from December 11, 2010. Photoshopped.)
After the pedal to the metal push over the weekend on the Sports Show, I’m reluctant to dive into the next big thing, finishing the novel. That’s definitely next. Yesterday evening I did do some Latin in what would have been my Tuesday exercise slot. That’s the new plan. Made some headway, too.
Last night the last Photoshop class of four. Asked how long it took to get good at Photoshop, our instructor said, “Oh, years.” I believe him. This stuff does not come cleanly, quickly for me. More like Latin, a struggle, two steps backward, then another one. Maybe later, progress. Well maybe not that bad, but it felt like it last night.
Partly I drove over in the rain and thought what a nasty drive it would be back home if the temperature slipped below 32. All that rain and slush. Ice. No one’s driving condition of choice, except 19 year old boys with muscle cars. So, I left a half an hour early. And got back home just as the below freezing temps hit and the rain turned to snow, the slush to ridged ice. Still had to take the trash out. Of course. But nothing like driving in the stuff.
