As I sit here in my studio, AKA The Wookie Cave, I can see a flag pole sporting a very tattered Jolly Roger. (The tatters give it a really authentic look me thinks.) And beyond it a lake, which looks grey and dismal and brrrrrr. Today is a brrrr kind of day. In fact so chilly that it keeps threatening to snow. Snow--for those of you who may not experience the phenomena--is white, shitty, cold stuff to be tolerated by us poor Canukians for long stretches of time. The leaves are all but gone from the ash and maples, but for some odd reason the beeches never seem to want to give them up, so they remain like little sienna coloured corpses rattling their hellos all winter.
Four sad, little guineas are wandering around trying to scrape something out of the frozen ground. Of course they aren't really sad, that is just me projecting my human emotions onto the little bastards. They in fact are wandering around, pecking at the ground, making a lot of racket, and generally are being assholes to each other. Occasionally they thump against the walls of the cave, a habit they picked up over the summer, and pop their heads up trying to look into the windows. (Probably more like trying to see themselves in the reflection. Guineas are infatuated by themselves in mirrors.)
Ka-rumba...we have company...I must leave you dear reader. For fox's lakes.
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