"It was imprudent of us, in the first place, to become authors. We could have become something regular, but we managed not to.
We were lucky, but we were also determined." Roy Blount Jr

"I don’t change the facts to enhance the drama. I think of it the other way round, the drama has got to fit the facts,
and it’s your job as a writer to find the shape in real life."
Hilary Mantel

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

An Opening

Technically this doesn't count as "open water" on my little lake because today's temperatures are cold enough to preserve the glazing of ice on top that formed overnight.



But near the lake's outlet--which I could not photograph due to enormous snow mountains--the water was ice-free and running into the culvert.

Across the state it's Town Meeting (Election Day) when ballotting takes place. And no legislative activity occurs on such an important day...many of my kind are elected officials in their towns as well as holding state office.

In the late morning I made my way to my town's polling place to vote the school ballot, choose Selectmen and Planning Board and Budget Committee members, Library Trustee, Cemetery Trustees, and other necessary officers. I'd studied the sample ballot so I quickly voted my Town Warrant, consisting of 21 articles, among them the annual budget and various department funding requests and some zoning changes. And the notorious "reject the Pledge" warrant article, included by petition.

The Friends of the Library bake sale table was crammed with goodies. I bought some orange zest chocolate chip cookies. And a bunch of Rice Krispies squares, "gurt big 'uns" as West Country English folk would say. (The latter served as my "lunch.")

Due to illness my hairdresser had to reschedule my appointment, so I had time for little household errands. I stopped at the bread outlet for a huge 75 cent bag of "bird bread" and went to the Dollar Store for two more of those cheap ($1) knotted rope dog toys, which are very popular with my 4-legged companions. Remnants of the ones they received in their Christmas stockings still litter the Lodge. They lasted far longer than I ever expected--a wicked good value!

It was heartening to see how much melting has occurred, exposing the ground. Where I am, deep in the woods, we even have a tiny open patch in front of the house. The mourning doves sun themselves there.

I accomplished some substantive writing yesterday and will try to do the same this afternoon. But I've got one eye turned towards MSNBC, following the Spitzer story. The scandals of the late 17th century might be slightly overshadowed by a scandal of the early 21st century.


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