ALITTLEBITCORNY

 "Slip the glove upon my hand for the ants to soothe the pain of something else. The stings are fading in, not striking me as same, but indian. The pain will flicker by. It shall turn away and die in the end. Though I'm no pedigree I won't fall down to my knees. No, I'm indian. And we are riding the change, not slipping down the drain in the end. And my roots must save me now when I prevail somehow. I'm indian. As the frantic cowboy dies his friends around him cry, "My god! It's the indians!" As the fickle fairy cheers, shouting, "no more tears, you're indian"."


Det har snöat idag. Och inte bara några få flingor, utan när jag kikar ut igenom mitt fönster så ser jag faktiskt ett (tunt) vitt täcke över gräsmattan. För första gången iår.
Det firar vi.