Around ten this morning, the light changed as the front moved through. "Turning the swift air luminous and strange."*
Snow. Snow and rain. Snow and rain and wind and a perfectly marvelous day. Went for a long walk, lunch, and the watery snow iced down. Still falling, though to little measurable result, pouring along streets, puddling coldly. Days like this make me miss Boston, where it rained reliably and routinely, and I was out in it every day.
We watched Happy-Go-Lucky with the audio commentary before sending it back. Nothing new, really. But I found myself not wanting to let go of the characters, have one more cup of tea with them. Get to hear more of their stories, watch them grow a little more. The story is more a study of characters, and I love knowing that they will all be fine. Well, maybe not one, but that's his own doing. All of them will stay with me for a long time.
Practicing the ukelele. Slowly, so that I don't make my fingers so sore I won't practice tomorrow.
Moby content to knead the woollyness. (The fur is not quite grown back on his front legs, which they shaved for the blood draw & IV.)
*From a poem, but this is about all I remember of it, and will gladly give credit if I figure it out.