Earlier, I chanced upon my across-the-street neighbor, Randy of the prodigious beard, at the mailboxes. We chatted for a good twenty minutes or so and -in spite of my shyness and blithering -
it was quite nice. Turns out he and his wife tapped a few birches and are boiling the sap down to syrup. I didn't even know you could do any sap other than maple.
Must choose something to read. I'm bogged down in Nancy Werlin's Impossible and I'm not quite sure why. I'll set it aside for a bit and move on to something entirely different. Suggestions, anyone?
*the client that is responsible for the crazy hours of the past month or so has been