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Over the weekend I noticed this crop of snow stalagmites blooming outside a window.
They were carved by a drip from the rooftop far, far above.
Lots of dripping today. It's 52 degrees and rainy, and the entire Lodge is enveloped by evaporation fog. The Chap is enjoying his holiday. Dogs are slumbering all over the place. This morning I'm finishing my taxes--would've done it yesterday, but I decided to read a novel instead and am better for it. It's the second novel in a row set in the time of Charles I, thus out of the period about which I'm writing.
This afternoon, it's back to writing.
Ordered another two rose bushes. I believe that's an even dozen that will be added to the rose beds in springtime. Click-of-the-mouse retail therapy this weekend means hard and heavy labour in a couple of months' time, but it's all good. And good for me.
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