Like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz

I finally made it out of the house on my own. All hail the Pina Colada (our Ford Escape), a vehicle whose name is truly appropriate.

I feel a bit silly, really, like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz when Glenda tells her she always had the power to go home. I spent hours shoveling snow yesterday knowing that I would be desperate, eventually, and I couldn't even get the whole driveway done (it's long, let me tell you). Nice to know now that I needn't have bothered but, ermm, all's well that end's well.

I am not big on posting pictures of myself (in fact, I hate the one in that right hand column there... they made me do it), but I am delirious enough to think you might find it amusing to see how I spend my evenings reading by headlamp... spelunking my way into the world of Charlaine Harris... cold hours warmed by Eric Northman, THE GREATEST VAMPIRE EVER.

Meanwhile, Tom is doing outdoor shows in 100+ degree heat. It's kind of funny (sad?) that we're both living such extremes at the moment, half a world apart.

Time to go buy peanut butter and jelly...