a wolf angel is not a good angel

When I got home, I found a lovely surprise: a package from Anna Louise. In December, she offered to send anyone who commented (even lurkers like me) a book of some sort. I got the uncorrected page proofs for something called Conversations with the Devil, which sounds a little unpromising, as pre-reviews go, but possibly very interesting. I tend to be wary of Christian-themed books. Anyways, I shall read it and see. I am sounding profoundly ungrateful here, which is all wrong, because I am looking forward to reading the book, and seeing it in my mailbox (well, really on my staircase, where the neighbour who picked up my mail for me left it — but I was no less excited to see it there).

In other news, my scrambled eggs turned out really, really badly. Ick.

My vacation is finally completely over. We didn’t win the $100 million lottery, so it’s work again for me.

I’m back home, in the weird “winter” weather.

Sure, it’s much more pleasant for it to be hovering at — or above! — freezing, instead of well below. But I can’t stand one more article about how every animal, except those that eat garbage (rats, raccoons), will die. Animals aren’t hibernating that should, and they’re using up their fat stores, so if we get a cold snap, they’ll starve to death. Birds aren’t migrating, so if we get a cold snap, they’ll freeze to death. One bird got frostbite, lost a toe, and had to be killed because it could no longer stand up. Other animals are dying because predators are moving north.

I can’t read the news anymore.