I am in here.
So I wake to a breath of snow — not a covering, by any means. This, of course, gives me a good reason to hide inside and write. Write. About what? About the snow, of course. My morning tea is cold and the room is cold. Hot tea here is possible, but I must move … Continue reading so I wake to a breath of snow
The heart of the house. That, and the den, which was on the other side of the bar from the hallway. It was designed to be just like a bar in a tavern in the Virginia of the 1700’s, complete with wooden bars to slide down and lock at night, and complete with the lock … Continue reading the bar room
In the basement of the house where I grew up was a darkroom, complete with a full set of 1950’s era film and photograph processing machinery. All that was lacking, when Dad and I first went down there with the idea of putting some of the stuff to use, was the necessary chemicals. Dad originally … Continue reading darkroom
As I mentioned to Shirl in a comment to a previous post, I’m switching my nanowrimo project over to a sort of autobiography instead of my previous attempt, which I can always come back to. Why? Especially when this means that I won’t likely make it to 50,000 words by the 30th of November. Well, … Continue reading Change of projects
white pebble 