You think, because I grew up in Winnipeg that I shouldn't mind the encroaching darkness of November as it slinks its way to the shortest day of the year. Wrong. I mind. Winnipeg may be cold but it enjoys a lot of sunshine, more than bleak Toronto. I should say, in TO's defence this year, that the days have been quite bright. But when the light begins to fade, shortly after 4 o'clock, I feel as if I'm late for something. Remember Robert Louis Stevenson's poem: "In winter I go to bed at night/And have to dress by candlelight./ In summer it's quite the other way/ I have to go to bed by day. " i spent one Christmas in Iceland because I wanted to see what it was like there on the shortest day of the year. It was quite Dickensian. Of course, they have electric light but every shop had a little kerosene lamp on the sidewalk outside the door every morning, to make up for shopping in the dark. Very cosy. I like cosy.
up up and away
At last, I'm up and running with a cobweb site of my very own, ready to answer questions like why don't spiders get stuck in their own webs (I don't know) and do the magic lines really come out of your/my hands (yes). A blog is, of course, a diary, and should be a daily entry, as close to as possible. Not too difficult for me , I hope, as I usually wake u p before 5, lots of time to gather my scattered REM and write something. Right now, it's noon so I'm past due. As Shakespeare said, anon, anon.