These three things, they randomly are.
Written quick, read by those afar.
Drivel, pointless; thoughts, disjointed.
Very low blogging bar…
Welcome to a random day when my brain is all WHAT? And when that happens, it’s all like, “Share this with the people!”
Picture it: It’s snowing and then sleeting. I figure waiting to go to work is the answer. Though that usually works, today I find myself in the thick of the sleet (and a slightly incorrect forecast) and realize I’ve done this backwards (listening to forecast = my first mistake). The school I use as my guide as to what to do changed from a two-hour delay to closed, apparently possessing a crystal ball I’m not privvy to. The next time this happens, though, I’ll follow their lead.
It’s Thursday! It’s time to share some doors! What did I capture this week? Let’s find out.
It’s Thursday! It’s time to share some doors!
Please excuse Tara from not blogging today due to the snow. Yes, we know that means she’s stuck inside as the roads get worse, businesses close, and life out there shuts down until the storm ends. So really, she has no good excuse for not being more creative and blogging since her computer is usually inside (and is right now) and she’s toasty and dry and safe.
Apparently, the Eastern seaboard is taking the day off, though, so she wants to join that party.
Blanket, check.
Books, check.
Internet peeps on social media all talking about the same things, check.
Lots of lovely beverages and snacks, check.
French toast ingredients (bread, eggs, etc.), um, well, she didn’t know the storm was coming so… she has bread and eggs and milk just because she always does. And she bought toilet paper yesterday, but because she actually needed it (she didn’t see the SNOWSTORM OF THE CENTURY DOPPLER POPPLER SUDDEN SNOWY DEATH REPORT on the news until late last night). Either way, she has supplies and is tucked inside.
Motivation to look out the window and say, “It’s so pretty,” check.
Motivation to do much else gone with the wind, check.
Until the snow melts….. we now return to our non-regularly scheduled silence.
