Monday

Sunny and very cool -- 43 degrees, only supposed to go up to 58 with a possible light freeze tonight and tomorrow night. Brought all our deck plants in AGAIN. Sheesh, this is getting old. The cilantro sprouts are still the most energetic/weedy -- the shoots are at least 2 - 3 inches tall. The basil and chives are real slowpokes.

Today need to go to the post office and grocery store. Will be putting up a poem later and a nanofic I wrote yesterday. The latter is nothing special -- more of a vignette, so I'm just posting it here.

Lots of tossing and turning last night, lots of hot flashes, vague feelings of disquiet -- thanks a lot, body. At least House is on tonight. Heh.

Nanofic: Prodigal

TITLE: Prodigal
AUTHOR: nightdog_writes.
CHARACTERS: Daniel Wilson and his family, House
RATING: A soft R for subject matter which may prove disturbing to some readers.
WARNINGS: No.
SPOILERS: Yes, for Season 5 in general.
SUMMARY: Sometimes the traditional questions have no answers. 446 words.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. Never will.
AUTHOR NOTES: Well, I wanted to write a happy Passover story. I should've known better.
BETA: Thanks, as always, to my intrepid First Readers for their support and encouragement on this one.

( Round and round the mulberry bush ...  )

Poem #5 for Poetry Month -- "Three Six Five Zero"

From the Irish poet Conor O'Callaghan, this is a small poem about snow and voicemail. *g*

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Very Few Words

Well.

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