Man, it's been almost non-stop snow for the past few days. Just as it was starting to melt -- bvrrrt! -- there's some more. It's keeping me confined to quarters as it were, since I don't want to kick around in the snow to get places, and it's sure as shit that the truck won't start in this mess, even if it were to have forward gears.

That's all right, though, because I've got to finish a draught for Spellman today, and I've got some Latin to do, and a ton of reading for Dave; I can't do Sexton's reading because I need to copy it off, and it's on reserve at FAL. At least I went shopping yesterday -- and started a new, very carefully budgeted menu plan -- so there's food in the house, and the clothes are drying behind me as we speak. Don't worry, kids: there's plenty to do. Stop picking on your brother! Patrick! Patrick Christopher Lewis! Take that mitre off and quit exiling your sister. Mary, go convert the dog.

Now, Ross, I belive it was your move?

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