Boxnoggin wasn’t perplexed by the appearance of a giant rootball on a water fountain, because it was well above nose-height for him. I, however, stood and stared for a few moments, trying to imagine the chain of events leading up to…this. The problem wasn’t a lack of possibilities, quite the opposite. There’s a variety of ways this giant chunk of roots and dirt could arrive in this situation, and all are through no fault of its own.
The absurdity only makes a burl more blameless.
It’s been rather an odd week, hasn’t it? I’m still not sure they didn’t fish some kind of small rodent out of a hadron collider, provoking the timeline to start healing itself. I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. I plan on a really cool Reading with Lili today, and of course there’s the Friday Night Writes to round everything out. And if all goes well I just might finish a zero draft (or two!) soon.
Weirdness levels noted, fingers crossed, and all that. We’re almost to the weekend, my beloveds. Let’s finish as well as we can.