There are seasons and there are seasons.  Nature’s seasons go at a regular pace, though the weather varies.  Not so the internal seasons.  I’ve been lax at the blog posts for a while now, because I feel like I’m in a burrowing season, not a communicative one.

It didn’t help that we’ve had two hail storms this month.  The first destroyed four skylights.  The second destroyed the roof.  There’s something about holes in the roof that makes one feel that there is really no place safe.hailThis post is to explain my silence, so I can stop feeling guilty about it.  I’m going to play prairie dog and dig myself a nice, comfy hole to winter in.  And see what I find down there.

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