![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Exactly midnight already? I was going to get here earlier tonight. Time and I are not getting along well. Even larger chunks of time are confusing me. I thought I had a dental appointment tomorrow, but now that I look at the card I see it isn't until next Monday.
Maybe if the rain arrivestomorrow today it will wash the cobwebs from my brain. But I suppose it's more likely that it will just leak through the roof and hasten the growth of mold in the ceiling, and that in turn will cause the deterioration of my brain to accelerate.
Speaking of cobwebs, tiny spiders have begun to appear in my room. A definite sign of spring. Other signs of spring include the first lilies, which bloomed today, and (here's still more evidence of brain deterioration) the first of those purple flowers the name of which I suddenly can't remember.
The black and white kitty turned up again shortly after ten o'clock. She seems too well fed to be a homeless stray. I wonder if she belongs to somebody who has begun leaving her out at night now that the weather is warmer? She's certainly friendly.
Linkage: An interesting document for fans of vintage geography (but don't look unless you've got goatloads of RAM and a fairly fast Internet connection) is the online version of Drummond's Pictorial Atlas of North Carolina— though it's not so much an Atlas as a Gazetteer. Published in 1924, it's full of old photos of North Carolina scenes, and has bits of information about various cities and towns there. I would like it better if the whole digitized version had not been crammed onto a single web page, though.
Maybe if the rain arrives
Speaking of cobwebs, tiny spiders have begun to appear in my room. A definite sign of spring. Other signs of spring include the first lilies, which bloomed today, and (here's still more evidence of brain deterioration) the first of those purple flowers the name of which I suddenly can't remember.
The black and white kitty turned up again shortly after ten o'clock. She seems too well fed to be a homeless stray. I wonder if she belongs to somebody who has begun leaving her out at night now that the weather is warmer? She's certainly friendly.
Linkage: An interesting document for fans of vintage geography (but don't look unless you've got goatloads of RAM and a fairly fast Internet connection) is the online version of Drummond's Pictorial Atlas of North Carolina— though it's not so much an Atlas as a Gazetteer. Published in 1924, it's full of old photos of North Carolina scenes, and has bits of information about various cities and towns there. I would like it better if the whole digitized version had not been crammed onto a single web page, though.
