Gentle Readers,

The thing I hate most about allergies is the tears. I mean the stuffed nose is generally no picnic, but it's the tears that really do it. I'm sitting there minding my own business, possibly working, possibly reading, possibly looking at kittens and I'm sniffing and having tears running down my cheeks.

"I'm not Crying!"

And yet, there I am rubbing my eyes and snuffling like a gradeschooler who's just lost their icecream to a misstep and is watching it slowly melt away on the baking pavement. "What's wrong?" they ask.

"Nothing. I'm fine. *sniff*" I'll respond.

And there go the tears again. One hanging tenaciously from the end of my nose. Tickling and making the need to sneeze all the stronger.

"I just need some air." I gasp, but I know that if the filtered air-conditioner isn't helping, the outside isn't going to be much better. Except when it's raining. Rain washing the air clean and making it safe to breathe.

I'm only happy (looking) when it rains.
Gentle Readers,

As I posted the other day, I want to do more writing so for starters I've declared Fiction Fridays (to compliment Mr. Robinson's Food Fridays (Dinner and a Show!)). I don't remember what it was, but I started thinking about navigation and remembered a book called "Down the long hill of the Sea". I'm going to expand this, but I'm going to need to do a lot more research and reread that book. Anyone have any recommendations on polynesian culture? I know I've got the voice pretty wrong, but I wanted to get the idea down before I forget.

Down the Long Hill of the Sky )
Gentle Readers,

This has been in my head all week and now I've finally had time to get it down. First draft fiction and all that.
All down to nothing. 513 words. )

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