Strange things are happening here, mixed in with good things. They forecast snow and then change their mind. Bankers screw us all, and qualify for bonuses I couldn’t dream of. Dolly seems to be happy and content all day and all night. Graham keeps almost starting on the cork and then pulling back (don’t ask). And the power keeps cutting out at unfortunate moments, frightening me off of writing anything in the way of a long entry even though I do have the urge.
If it were not for the splendid, wondrous, efficient and friendly car service I got this morning, I’d suspect that either the entire universe is against me or a certain Mr Murphy is trying to mess with my life.
Time to go to bed.
