Soft to the touch, I reach back and fall down
It is snowing on our street! Lightly, vaguely, and in the damp way where it turns to meltwater as soon as it touches street or steps or car hoods, but I believe it to be our first snow of the year. I can't pretend our planet isn't on fire, but I appreciate that at least some of the seasons are still trying to feel like themselves.
I feel awful but appear to be writing fiction, slowly, for the first time in months. It's not necessarily relevant, but I like this digital painting: "Lament of my Second Heart." Also I will have to listen to this album, since it was inspired by Le Guin's Gethen: Gavilán Rayna Russom's The Envoy (2019).
I feel awful but appear to be writing fiction, slowly, for the first time in months. It's not necessarily relevant, but I like this digital painting: "Lament of my Second Heart." Also I will have to listen to this album, since it was inspired by Le Guin's Gethen: Gavilán Rayna Russom's The Envoy (2019).

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Thank you. Now I just need to accomplish some movie writing . . .
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Thank you!
(Predictably, I now have snow envy.)
Does it snow where you are? Or do you just get the other half of the Robert Frost ice-and-fire?
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Wow. We do not often get graupel or hail.
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I'm sorry you feel awful. I am excited that you are writing.
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That seems monstrously unfair. I hope you have real snow soon and not just concrete.
I'm sorry you feel awful. I am excited that you are writing.
Thank you.
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And we saw some flurries out this way, too.
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Thank you! I want much more time for it.
And we saw some flurries out this way, too.
Oh, nice.
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Thank you.
*hugs*
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And congratulations on the writing.
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I feel kind of like I should write it something.
And congratulations on the writing.
Thank you!