The northern lights have made an appearance and done so in force. I've seen them the odd once in a while; a faint shimmering in the skay, but never like this.

The sky is literaly glowing.

The sky is filled with a series of almost neon-green bursts of light. They flash and waver and stutter like a flourescent bulb and I'm almost clapping my hands with joy.

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...I was given a really cool New Years day present an' I wanna share it:

Go give her your accolades!

That's not fog.

The air is musty and smells like matches and old campfires. The stink of it sticks to your clothes. It creeps through open windows like a thief. Fans simply speed this up. To make it worse, the day is particularly humid. It's fire season now, and these can last for days. So here I am, in my nice cool house, which now smells like it's been set fire to. It was either turn on the a/c, grin and bear it, or fry in my own sweat.

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It's going to be in the mid-thirties all week. For the next two days, it's going to be thirty-five. For the metrically challenged, that's about ninety-seven fahrenheit.

These are days in which one is proud that someone stepped up to the plate and invented air-conditioning.

My dog is not going to be a happy camper, and will likely be as pleased as I am of the existence of the A/C.

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The local school board has gone on strike. All of the teachers walked off the job. The reason for the strike essentially boils down to 'better support for the kids.'

So, in essence they want to improve things for the students by refusing to teach them anything.

Wuh?

It's Daisy, sucking up.

As usual.

She pokes her head in periodically, in the hope that A) She'll get a walk, B) She'll get a snack or C) She 'll get both.
And she can be quite insistent, hanging outside my door and giving pitieous whines under her breath, especially when she wants a walk. Well, I can't take her out, as it's raining cats and dogs (*COUGH*), so I decide to keep her occupied in another way by giving her a peice of what I'm snacking on.

Wine gums.

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Self-help means exactly that: dealing with a problem or issue on your own.

So why would you need a book on the subject?

She's a beagle, and easy enough to please. My little Daisy-girl starts the day by picking up her frayed, well-loved, well-chewed length of rope, dropping it in front of me with a solid 'thunk' and waiting expectantly.

I'm not one to ignore a challenge, so I grab an end and she leaps forward, grabbing the other, and the duel commences.

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Because I totally do:

It strikes me like a club as I step off of the bus, tearing my backpack from my grasp like a mugger. I chase it for the better part of a block, while being buffeting left and right and being forced to come up short and turn my head as it slams into my face and chokes off my air. The air is moving so fast that I can't breathe it.

I'll probably find that funny, later.

The wind finally decides to let me have my backpack back, deciding it would be much more fun to abuse me, instead.

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