Just got home from Vancouver. Only a 30 degree difference in temperature. Testicles now about a tenth of the size they were before boarding the flight.

Fog overnight (and temperatures below zero) have turned into a morning frost on everything. The branches of every tree look as if they were run through the Sugar Frosted Flakes frosting machine. It's a very smart look.

Snazzy, as my mother would say.

Meanwhile ... January blahs have dug in for a long stay, or so it appears. Very discouraging. But that's the point I suppose.

Take Note: The January Blahs have officially arrived. Today. Ain't it a treat?

And what did the ruling monarch of indecisiveness (sp?) conclude? With various options available, what did I choose to do New Year's Eve? Why, I stayed home. As you might imagine, it was dull.

Duller still was New Year's Day. Heaven's, that was a long haul through the tedium of a commerce free city. No wonder the social experiment of the Soviets went in the crapper.

I did manage to do some updating on Piddleville. Man, this life is just too extreme ...