*****
This evening I found myself wondering if, one hundred or so years from now, authors will be writing stories about the infancy of e-publishing.
How many writers found gratification in getting their work before an audience, however small. How some e-pubbed authors went on to become giants in the industry. While print books will still be readily available, how commonplace it will be to slip a tiny chip, no larger than your thumbnail, into a wristband or portable drive the size of a paperback, and how, for a little extra $$$, you can have your story played out as a 3-D hologram, complete with sound, settings, and actors of your choice.
How silly the bickering of these dark ages will seem then.
And people can readily enjoy e-pubbed comics of Dick Cheney, Apocalyptic android, and The Barack, dark angel of the hypnotic oratory, and feast on the ancient archives of long forgotten ‘blogs’, and…and…
Okay.
Yes.
This winter has definitely gone on too long. 
I’m blogging at the SFC site today. Come and join us while it’s fresh. 
*****
In my ongoing effort to provide the very best in blogging…
I’m sending you someplace else. 
If you can spare a mo, pop over to PBW’s blog and check out “The Backstory Cafe”.
Fabulous.
This pretty lady comes to visit me fairly frequently. And has no fear of me whatsoever, lol.
The local government encourages us not to put food out for the deer.
This one likes whole corn kernels and apples. 
(And yes, this is still supposed to be a writer’s blog–snort!–more on that later this week).
The lovely Bernita Harris was kind enough to name me as one of the recipients of her Prolific Blogger Awards.
And though I am far from prolific 
I was very honored.
In return, I am to link back to both Bernita’s post… 
And to the Original blog post, where you can hook up with Mr. Linky and meet new and exciting bloggers…
And to name seven other deserving recipients.
Er…I’m sure I’m having a brain fart, but I can hardly think of seven prolific others!
Sooo, I’m going to go with Sasha White, and Paperback Writer, and I’ll toss in the Chicas (Amie, Dennie, Jaq, Tanya, & Mel) for good measure to beat my quota. 
Ladies, you rock, and I enjoy reading every one of you!
And no, the photo above is NOT from my back yard, lol. But I loved the picture.
I’m sliding on over to SFC today. Please join us.
Winter will never be one of my favorite seasons.
It’s too brutal, too harsh, too absolute.
Still, no matter how much I balk and complain, one truth can’t be denied.
It can have a spectacular beauty, all its own.
My old willow became this vision, greeting me one frosty morning last week with the most delicate coating of ice imaginable.
Being a writer can seem awfully inadequate sometimes, so I won’t even attempt a description.
It took my breath away.
Yeah, that’s me. Second from the right, near the back.
And I think I see lotsa hands out there…
Honestly, can we get a freaking break? Uncle!
I’m blogging at SFC today. Bring your booze, your drugs, and lock up your women (and boy-toys). 
I dreamed I was pregnant.
I’ve always been pretty good at remembering my dreams. And if you remember them, you know some seem to stand out more than others. This one did.
There’s nothing unusual about dreaming about a pregnancy (and yes, it was just a dream). I’ve done it often. But I’ve never dreamed about myself being pregnant—and so waddling, call-in-the tow-motor, Mount St. Helen’s pregnant at that. And it was so amazingly vivid!
Most dream interpretations claim it symbolizes a new beginning, new growth, or growing creativity in one’s life.
That would be nice.
Of course, in the dream I was also struggling with my little piece of luggage, trying to get it down the stairs on my way to the hospital to deliver.
Subtle much, subconscious? 
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