A big cozy pair of lopi socks I bought while in Iceland a few years ago.
Ice. Icy. Icier. And as autumn draws to a close, I’m awake well past my bedtime and getting ready to run a midnight winter solstice run in the river valley with a bunch of other crazy people, and probably lots of ice.
If you’ve never run down a moonlit trail in a snow storm you don’t know what you’re missing.
…a bit of snow. It’s so brown and ugly out right now.
Writing is a combination of paying too close attention to the world and being filled with insatiable need to extract that attention into explanation, so teaching that is basically just coaxing someone to live with their mind open and a keyboard always handy.
English toffee, sriracha, and espresso beans wrapped in a layer of chocolate.
I need to update this question: phone… rarely. Communicating in a myriad of other ways… constantly.
Regret that implies I would have chosen ignorance over knowing something, no matter how uncomfortable, and the world has too much of ignorance these days to hope for more.
Since touring our local Waste Management Facility and learning that they have a special process to recycle, compost and efficiently deal with them, I do feel a little less guilty about all the paper cups I use. But only a little.
I’m revisiting the world of Skyrim, a six year old game that was recently released in carry-around-with-you-mode for Switch, and worth every penny I scraped out of my mad money fund to buy it.
It’s not a song, per se, but the theme music from the podcast I was listening to on the train is a bit of an earworm.
Snorkeling in Roatán last month I swam out through a fairly narrow channel between some sharp corral, explored for about 20 minutes, then had a few moments when even though I could see the shore I couldn’t see a safe way back to it through the dangerous maze a foot below the surface.