Sorry it has been so long since my last post. It will probably be quite a while until the next one, too, since I'm going home where the bandwidth is...well...dial-up. I'll make up for it by giving you this visual poem: one day in my life, a photograph every half hour (approximately).
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
T.S. Elliot, from Preludes
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