First shift back in CPSIC and it felt pretty good. The day shifts took a long time… Two days felt like a week doing the twelve hours instead of eight. But the nights went well and the four days off has also felt like a week.
Not going to be a great deal of free time in Florida this March. Two baseball games already booked… And now two days with the parents at Cape Canaveral. Never been there before. It should be pretty nice to check out.
The woods are currently pretty close to off limits for walks. The normal route into them is now gone with the work being done on landscaping the creek area. There are two other ways across but lots of heavy equipment going through one way and, besides that, the snow cover is now very icy. I really need a pair of those shoe grip things you can slide over your boots in order not to break my neck. Did get lots of exercise clearing the ice out of my driveway, but not much wildlife to be seen there. That said… There was a dead mouse left on my doorstep yesterday. Either a cat thinks I’m pretty good… Or I’m being warned of impending doom by a psychopath.
Brought my Christmas present map of Fogo Island in to get framed yesterday. The woman at the shop sort of freaked out when she saw what it was. Fogo is becoming a rockstar of places to visit. She told me about a documentary she watched on the Inn… About how she get as far as Twillingate but wants to cross over to the island… About how her mother was recently there for a day and loved it… And how she’s seen lots of Fogo Island pictures come through their shop for framing. When I was running around that place as a kid, playing along the shoreline or in around the stage at low tide, I’d have never in a million years guessed that people from all over the world would make a point of trying to get there for a visit. By the way… We’ve got a couple nights booked to be on the Island in July. Even sister shall be there. Autographs available upon request… Though it’s about time I book the time off at work, and get my plane tickets squared away. Organizing family vacations is a difficult thing.
Where Have You Gone
Where have you gone
Poor frogs of Mud Creek
Last summer I’d pass you by
Nod a “good morning” as you sat
Sprawled out in the muddy pools
Looking to beat
The summer heat.
I assume you dug in for winter
As all frogs would do
Burrowing through the mud
Holding out until spring
In a frozen hibernation
I assume you were scooped away
Excavated from your lair
Carted off in a Tonka owners dream
And unceremoniously dumped
Far from where you’d expect to wake
Will you wake there?
Are you sturdy enough to survive the trip?
Will you slip out from the thawing mud?
Disoriented in your new surroundings?
Or will you forget about last year's home?
And just concentrate on bugs and flies
Or is that distant mound a grave?
The last resting place of your generation
Until you and yours are scooped again
Carted off in more giant Tonka toys
And landscaped at someone's doorstep
There to fertilize their growing lawn.
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