Wishing you the luck of the Irish, today and always!

 

Snow happens, weather you like it or not

I sometimes wonder what our ancestors who first came to these mountains thought about our crazy weather.
Or maybe Ireland and Scotland’s weather is just as nutty.
I say Ireland and Scotland because those are the countries most of the settlers here came from.

Little feet, big mischief

Heron had to work today. 
They had the regular bar crowd, and then something about a St. Patrick's Day race or something.
I'll do a time jump. 
He called late this evening, said he was off work, and going to his girlfriend's house for the night.

Springtime: when the world becomes your playground

 The kids started stirring at 8 am, if they were awake any earlier they didn't wake me up for once.

Cowboy was awake, and had me and Badger out the door heading for Kodak by 11 am.
We walked around the Flea Market, he needed a phone harness or at least that's what he calls it.

“After all,” Anne had said to Marilla once, “I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.”

This is going to be one of those super quick, yo, I'm still alive type of posts.
Absolutely nothing happened today, but I've been writing daily since 2002, for the most part, and I'll be doggone if I miss a day.

Feeling lucky?

 

“Sharing space across generations requires boundaries; otherwise, love and duty can turn into exhaustion.”

Thirty‑three years ago today was the Blizzard of 1993.
We had roughly twelve to fifteen inches of snow.
Cowboy and I lived in a trailer park in Jefferson City.