Monday, December 27
Moonrise and ravioli
Kristen and I just came in from walking the dogs in the fading twilight, she looking like an Old Navy ad, me just like a guy semi-bundled in the cold. Coming down the hill, she spotted the smallest orange arc of the moon rising in Nebraska. We stood and watched it come up, werewolf eyeball orange, behind a few low clouds, tinted by today's brown cloud inversion-based pollution which comes down river to us here on the edge of nowhere. The moonrise was swell!
(Winter based note to Joe and Lesie: the snow is mostly melted off now, remaining only in the shady north-side spots.)
(Food-based note to self: And now I smell dinner floating up from the kitchen level, something ravioli-based it smells like, so I'm out of here.)
(Winter based note to Joe and Lesie: the snow is mostly melted off now, remaining only in the shady north-side spots.)
(Food-based note to self: And now I smell dinner floating up from the kitchen level, something ravioli-based it smells like, so I'm out of here.)
