Monochrome In Colour

Day 87: It was good to be back in the office today, although after an absence of a little over a month, I wasn't sure I was going to make it through all the emails and applications which had backed up. That said, I was hoping for a few minutes to take a walk in the snow, but it wasn't in the cards. On the up side, Arnie called to discuss the Tomie folios, and with Kevin's help, I may now have some hope of "translating" the cross-written pages. Snow fell almost continuously throughout the day, sometimes drifting down as a fine shower of flakes, other times becoming so dense that I could hardly see the road from our window, Mother Goose shaking out her featherbed with a vengeance. The monochrome landscape was broken only by the occasional bright orange plow. Even the visitors (what few there were) were clad in muted colours. As Kevin and I drove out, snow diminished at the entrance but picked up again by the time we reached Ashford. My yard is as white as Longmire. Winter has come at last.

This End Up

Day 108: I left my camera unattended in the office again, and Kevin's sideways pose brought up a memory from years ago when a friend was visiting. I am normally an "early to bed, early to rise" person, a strong contrast to the night-owl habits of my guest. Over the course of the evening, the conversation had drifted to quantum physics and relativity, carrying us well past the midnight hour, and I was getting a little pecky for being tired. When my friend remarked that I needed an "attitude adjustment" because I was complaining about being up past bedtime, I replied with the first thing which sprang to mind. It was a comment entirely within keeping to theme: "Yeah, I'm vertical and I need to be horizontal." The ba-da-bing took half a minute to occur.

Still trying to sort it out? "Attitude" is the operative word. Kevin has the right idea, too. Sometimes all you need is a little attitude adjustment to brighten a work day.

What The Heck Is Going On Here?

Day 34: The first thing that happened to me when I got to work this morning was that our Chief of Interpretation grabbed me before I even had my jacket off and presented me with a rubber-stamp crow which she had been charged to deliver by the Superintendent's wife. Then I found a holey envelope (interdepartmental envelope) in the office inbox addressed to me with some of the crow napkins left over from the Pumpkin Pie Social last night. Then I got home and there's this enormous PEACH PIE in a box with a novel called "Raven's Secret" addressed to "Crow" sitting on the trunk of my car, and no clue who left it there. What the heck is going on here?