a new story: Big macs and fries. you read about it first here; could be the first of a series, as yet unnamed. stay tuned.

ice storm outside; snow that changed to drizzle, hovered at freezing, got worse, that kind of stuff. school is already cancelled; the town is folding its tent, though the university, as usual, will be the last to go. we'll work, in other words, though we'll take the children, or find a place for them. in other words, a day of driving around on ice, kids in car, teaching yet more hours, trying to get out of the week. but hey, it'll all work out. i'm a writer; have a book out (somewhere)- another coming, maybe, a band, a job, a beautiful family. i've become a wimp around this weather stuff, the hovering around thirty degrees and all, but hey, it won't do me in. i might even enjoy it....

criticism welcome on the stories, btw; i've admitted that i'm very thin-skinned, too sensitive, but as long as you couch it in plenty of compliments, i really do need to hear it.