Mine was a temporaly inconsistent weekend,
seemingly simultaneously too short and also wearisome,
fraught with minor difficulties,
several more poignant than others.
Milton’s declaration seemed apt, if a bit melodramatic.
Perhaps I should have looked harder for something from Wilde.
To come this week:
- The introduction of Farmer Al’s Indoor Alchemical Agronomy
- A bout of poetic rhetoric on personal acidity and the nature of gout
- Cat hats and the start of predator indexing for the lesser Harrisburg metro-proximal