I have tried, diligently, to make at least a single measly frame of a photography every day for seventeen days and nights. I have failed, not gloriously or valiantly, not even miserably, but in the most inglorious way, by lazyness and insufficient will.
There are now twelve photos in the flickr set where there should have been seventeen.
Madicken thought it was rather too cold as it hit -17°C last weekend, but now its around zero and everything is a salty slush. More snow is falling, melting and feeding the slow, muddy, avalanche through the town. The winter is not even pretty any more; the snow doesn't sparkle when it is wet and muddy.
The scientific weather is about the same as the actual weather. That is, I am waiting inside, as if in front of the open fire, in hope of hearing the wind turn so that I may venture out again. I am waiting for a, now rather late, review. It's frustrating because they obviously had problems finding reviewers. That took them almost three weeks (over Christmas), and now it's been another two weeks under review.
Meanwhile, I try to solve the Rubix cube, and when I get bored I take a picture of it to at least do something productive (for some definition of productive). Now it's snowing less, and it might be time to venture out, so that the Madicken gets to run around and do the things that dogs do. Maybe the review will be finished tomorrow, maybe I'll only miss these first five days of photography.
Despondently (kind of like Eeyore) yours,
Michael
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