Ahhhh, spring. The gradual reappearance of the dog poops you missed during the deep dark, the combination of mud, dust and ice, the slow awakening of yours truly after months of dark beer and bacon-induced stupor.
As it is, I am missing the lovely 60 degrees in the Squarebanks due to work related-travel to chillier climes out on the coast. But the daylight, even without warmth, is hitting me. This will be the year for chicken raising! I will weed the garden! I will again rant and rave for the sake of lefty puppies, kittens, and rainbows... Or something like that.
So, yes, we're not dead yet over here at FBH. Just finally recovered from the whole Palin thing -- Flic and I are back.
Note: Of course, having not even read a blog in months, (months!), I pilfered a title from the Ester Republic without even knowing it. Apologies Deirdre... glad to know you are Not Dead Yet, either.
Note 2: Expect weird formatting to show up as we attempt to update the design of the blog.
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