Wouldn't is absolutely stink—hypothetically speaking, naturally—if you had a web site, which you updated somewhat regularly and which inspired a somewhat healthy stream of daily visitors, and that domain expired...like 11 days ago?

Furthermore, wouldn't it stink if the domain renewal notices were sent to a less than reliable recipient, say a husband-type character, and he kept forgetting to renew the domain until his wife, the more regular of the site updaters, stumbles to her computer to find her web site gone and her e-mail flooded with friendly notes concerning the welfare of said site? (Thank you for letting me know the situation to those of you who e-mailed, by the way! I appreciate it!)

Now, hypothetically still, I wonder how such a forgetful husband-type would be most properly dealt with?

The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go downtown, things'll be great when you're
Downtown — no finer place, for sure
Downtown — everything's waiting for you!

Saturday, Miles and I donated to ourselves. It was a difficult week for Miles. He was splitting his time between work and visiting his mother in the hospital. Emotionally and physically, he was exhausted. Over the course of last week, I finally felt myself fitting into this version of my life again, but it has been an emotional adjustment. Friday was particularly difficult for me as I learned the unhappy results of my mother's latest scan.

Saturday dawned dreary and drab. We breakfasted luxuriously on oatmeal and coffee before snuggling on the couch. 8 hours of slumber later, we felt alive again.

Sunday, with the sun shining bright and the birds chirping, I refused to spend another day inside. I begged and moped and pouted to go walk around downtown. Finally, Miles gave in.

The fresh air freed our captive worries. There's not really much to entertain you with out of this excursion, as all we did was walk and talk and hold hands. But—!

I did manage to restrain Miles from running into Elijah's as we entered the vicinity. Elijah's happens to have some of the very best seafood chowder that I have ever tasted. Carolina Chowder, if you will. We're big fans. You get within a block of the riverside restaurant and that's seriously all you can smell.

He kept groaning, "Honey, I'm so hungry! Chowder would be so good! We'll ask for a table on the deck just as you like?"

"We've got food at home," I replied sternly, thinking all the while, "God that smells good."

One night (long, loooong ago—during my freshmen year of college!), my parents, some friends, and I dined together in La Crosse, WI. The party consisted of my roommate (and best bud) Sarah, my across-the-hall pal Anna (for pronunciation: think fauna, not fanna), her mother, my mother, my father and me. We went to a placed called Edwardo's, and the six of us split into separate parents' and children's' tables.

Being the brilliant young scholars that we were, we immediately flipped over our place mats and reached for the crayons.

We were coloring for 5ish minutes when Sarah made a sound of disgust. She gestured angrily at Anna and me. She said to me, "YOU! YOOOOUUUU always draw flowers! Always a flower! FLOWER FLOWER FLOWER! I'm sick of flowers!" Then, looking to Anna, "And YOU! YOOOOUUUU always draw ponies! Always a pony! PONY PONY PONY! I'm sick of ponies!" Dividing her gaze between the two of us, "YOU TWO have NO imagination! I draw EVERYTHING. Harrrumph!" Sarah is as silly (and as sweet) as a person can get.

Anna has changed quite a bit from that night. I think she still likes ponies best, but now she draws other stuff too. She also sews and knits and does lots of really talented things.

I remembered this vignette as I was walking this morning. I was out to clear my head. I grabbed our camera on the way out, thinking I might capture a touch of spring along my lake. I returned from the exercise much refreshed. I looked through my digital shots and found...flowers. Lots and lots of flowers. Obviously, I haven't progressed so artistically as my good friend Anna.

Erm...and I just caught sight of the post from yesterday. There really is no hope left for me.