Monday, January 24, 2005

Sometimes

You don't want to write about anything real.


So I'm going to let my thought run riot on digital free paper.


It's snowing in Bath, or so Rob says. I crave some snow. The bit fat sort of flake that makes my cry a little because it is soft and cold and pretty. I want to be soft and cold and pretty, here in my snowy jumper. Lizzy calls me pretty. Rob calls me beautiful. Maybe oh yes I am.


I might call someone random beautiful today. Like he said.


I love knitting.


I'll be back soon.


The sky is thick with clouds. It's coming. The snow must be coming. The wind has blown it in from the northeast. A good sign. Yorkshire down to London had snow.


I must go now. I have French.



8 comments:

Lori said...

Anonymous said...

Anonymous said...

.:petal:. said...

Lori said...

Anonymous said...

Anonymous said...

.:petal:. said...