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It's a fine line between living for the moment and being a sociopath.

Patricia B McConnell: For The Love Of A Dog.

Pema Chodron: The Places That Scare You

Daniel Wallace: Mr Sebastian & the Negro Magician

All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are. --Pablo Neruda

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Dreaming of a White Shiplake

Normally, I leave Flame-Haired Angel in the bed on Sunday mornings. I get up and potter. She emerges some while after.

This morning, however, I awoke to an England that looked like this.

One does not let Flame-Haired Angel miss snow. I woke her up. We were out in it in minutes.

Australians are understandably fascinated by the stuff, what with having grown up in a hot, dry country and all. The idea of a naturally occurring substance that is both cold and wet, appearing in a blanket of abundance, is a bit of a head trip.

Watching Flame-Haired Angel in snow is like watching a puppy's first time at the beach. Except the puppy frolics taking pictures of everything.

It's deadly cute.


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