Day 20,469 b

Soon, it will be time for me to return to the woods. The grass is getting green again, and buds are forming on the trees.

Maybe after the coming winter storm passes on Thursday, and the cool weather eases up next week.

Day 20,469

No wonder I am so tired these days.

Current mood:

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Help! Is there a doctor on board?

DOCTOR: *rushing forward* Yes, I’m a doctor.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Oh, thank God. This man is choking on an apple.

DOCTOR: *backing away* Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Day 20,468

Why shouldn’t magic users or clerics have blunt arrows?

Jack Kirby, please stop being relevant from 50 years ago.

World Hippo Day is celebrated on 15 February every year, serving as an opportunity to raise awareness about the plight of hippos and promote conservation efforts for their protection.

Also a great little ditty sung by John Lithgow.

#doodle #worldhippoday #hippo #hippopotamus

“You found Captain America in an ice floe and woke him up? That’s great!”

“Well, we got Brother Voodoo to ‘wake him up’, yeah…on the plus side, he’s ready to get back in action, lots of Nazis still in 2025…”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

#ihavenoproblemwiththis

For those who celebrate, Happy Karen Valentine’s Day

Sometimes even the best of witches cook instant soup

This much I’m certain of: it doesn’t happen immediately. You’ll finish [the book] and that will be that, until a moment will come, maybe in a month, maybe a year, maybe even several years. You’ll be sick or feeling troubled or deeply in love or quietly uncertain or even content for the first time in your life. It won’t matter. Out of the blue, beyond any cause you can trace, you’ll suddenly realize things are not how you perceived them to be at all. For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You’ll detect slow and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you. Worse, you’ll realize it’s always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a vast shimmer, only dark like a room. But you won’t understand why or how. You’ll have forgotten what granted you this awareness in the first place.

…

You might try then, as I did, to find a sky so full of stars it will blind you again. Only no sky can blind you now. Even with all that iridescent magic up there, your eye will no longer linger on the light, it will no longer trace constellations. You’ll care only about the darkness and you’ll watch it for hours, for days, maybe even for years, trying in vain to believe you’re some kind of indispensable, universe-appointed sentinel, as if just by looking you could actually keep it all at bay. It will get so bad you’ll be afraid to look away, you’ll be afraid to sleep.

Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you’ll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You’ll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then for better or worse you’ll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you’ve got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name.

And then the nightmares will begin.

Excerpts from House of Leaves
Mark Z. Danielewski

Day 20,465

We got quite a glazing of ice on the trees before the big melt set in.

Ninety-five percent of the snow has vanished over the course of today. All that remains are stray snow nuggets and a few large puddles in the mud, not even slush.

The Amish Powerball is up to 4 dozen eggs