I'm typing Happy Birthday to [livejournal.com profile] bogwitch with trembly hands from shovelling for an hour. I hope you can read it :-) I don't suppose it's snowing where you are but hopefully the sun is shining as it is here.::hugs you::

The snow is like dust; you scoop up a shovelful and it scatters like sparkly stuff and you're left with a teaspoon to hurl at the mini-Everest you've created. So you've lifted it and got nothing to show for it.

I won't get philosophical about it. ::grin:;

Housework, writing, collapse, in no particular order I think.
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