i'm born again

not in any sort of metaphysical way but in a very mundane way. i'm writing again. to write is to exist...to write again is to be reborn.

things have been slow here. the ski season ended but the snow is falling today. it has been warm, which always means the big ones leave me out on the porch all day. not that i'm complaining, but would it hurt them to take me with them every now and then? the answer to that rhetorical question is a big emphatic noooooo.

enough of the bitterness, time to enjoy the spring time.