Winter seems reluctant to slip away, in Glastonbury at least. Its bony fingers still claw at the ground, its gelid breath still chills the heart. Brief appearances by Ye Sunne are few but wonderful to behold. I didn’t see any creatures creep forth from their holes on Imbolc, but that’s principally because I was one of them.
OK, enough’s enough.. the graphic style of this blog, I have to admit, is rather underwhelming. It just doesn’t look clear, or easy on the eye. At least it should be wider, blah de blah.. A pimple on the blogosphere, all I can seem to manage at the moment is to briefly complain about its design.
So there’s another thing to go on the list, along with all the astro stuff.
“Note to self: make list of things to do – urgent.” Douglas Adams called such a person a Worksop in The Meaning Of Liff. Wasn’t it Margaret Thatcher who said that happiness is a “ticked-off list”? As unlikely as it seems, isn’t there something a tad spiritual embedded in that? For, what is “accomplishment”? etc etc
(*stifled yawn*)
- Procrastinator Magnus.