Sam faces a serious problem. He loathes snow, cold and wet. Thus he choses to avoid lakes, rain, baths - oh yes, and snowstorms.
On the other paw, there's eight inches of snow on the ground, so pretty hard to avoid when nature calls. He even slid out on a patch of ice, a thoroughly undignified moment for a serious dog.
Yesterday nearly every yard we walked by had children and grown ups playing in the snow. A few brave souls had shovels out, but it did seem rather like a waste of time, given how quickly the cleared areas filled up again.
I woke up around 2 AM from a series of dreadful nightmares with a dozen good ideas for the diss, half the introduction and half for detail chapters. I'm trying to push the literature as much as possible, without getting into the excruciating detail that drives me mad. I repeated the list a few times so that I wouldn't forget any of them - and then, of course, couldn't get back to sleep. (yawns) Please pass the coffee.
Now comes the challenge of integrating the ideas, most of which actually seem pretty good in broad daylight, into what's already present. You know what this means? Right: more books on the floor.
Words Written: lots of little scraps of paper
Lessons Graded: twelve