We're back now from a quick trip south, so you burglars who were watching this blog in order to do your burgling as soon as we were gone, neener-neener.
But we came back to about two inches of snow. Now, it wasn't exactly tropical where we went (we voyaged as far south as Payson, Utah) but there's no snow there, the grass is greening and my sister-in-law's daffodils and crocuses were blooming. Heck, even the grain outside of Pocatello is greening. Here, all is white and I had to start a fire in the fireplace because it's just too durned cold here. Oh well. So our return wasn't as greatly anticipated as was Bilbo's return to Hobbiton. It wasn't snowy when he got back. He did have to deal with the Sackville-Bagginses, however.
So you can probably tell I'm not even going to try to match March's all-time record for Blog droppings. Just got a bit enthusiastic. Time will tell if such enthusiasm will continue.
2 comments:
Tani
said...
We had snow here Sunday morning. Lots of it. Apparently, snow follows you wherever you go.
Indy and Harry
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We're heavily into many things at our house, as is the case with many
houses. So here are the fruits of many hours spent with Harry Potter and
Indiana Jone...
Here at the End of All Things
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And another book blog is complete.
Oh, Louis Untermeyer includes a final collection of little bits -- several
pages of insults -- but they're nothing I hav...
Here at the End of All Things
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I’ve pondered this entry for a while now. Thought about recapping my
favorite Cokesbury Party Blog moments. Holding a contest to see which book
to roast he...
History of Joseph Smith, by His Mother, by Lucy Mack Smith. 354 pages.
History of Pirates, A: Blood and Thunder on the High Seas, by Nigel Cawthorne. 240 pages.
Peanuts by the Decade, the 1970s; by Charles Schulz. 490 pages
Star Bird Calypso's Run, by Robert Schultz. 267 pages.
There's Treasure Everywhere, by Bill Watterson. 173 pages.
Read in 2024
A Rat's Tale, by Tor Seidler. 187 pages.
Blue Lotus, The, by Herge. 62 pages.
Book Thief, The; by Markus Zusack. 571 pages.
Born Standing Up, by Steve Martin. 209 pages.
Captain Bonneville's County, by Edith Haroldsen Lovell. 286 pages.
Case of the Condemned Cat, The; by E. W. Hildick. 138 pages.
Catch You Later, Traitor, by Avi. 296 pages.
Diary of A Wimpy Kid: Big Shot, by Jeff Kinney. 217 pages.
Edward R. Murrow and the Birth of Broadcast Journalism, by Bob Edwards. 174 pages.
Exploring Idaho's Past, by Jennie Rawlins. 166 pages.
Forgotten 500, The; by Gregory A. Freeman. 313 pages.
I Must Say: My Life as A Humble Comedy Legend, by Martin Short and David Kamp; 321 pages.
Joachim a des Ennuis, by J.J. Sempe and Rene Goscinny, 192 pages.
Le petit Nicolas et des Copains, by J.J. Sempe and Rene Goscinny, 192 pages.
Moon Shot: The Inside Story of America's Race to the Moon, by Alan Shepard and Deke Slayton; 383 pages.
Number Go Up, by Zeke Faux. 280 pages.
Peanuts by the Decade: The 1960s, by Charles Schulz. 530 pages.
Red Rackham's Treasure, by Herge. 62 pages.
Secret of the Unicorn, The; by Herge. 62 pages.
Sonderberg Case, The; by Elie Wiesel. 178 pages.
Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk, by David Sedaris. 159 pages.
Stranger, The; by Albert Camus. 155 pages.
Tintin in Tibet, by Herge. 62 pages.
Truckers, by Terry Pratchett. 271 pages.
Vacances du petit Nicolas, Les; by J.J. Sempe and Rene Goscinny, 192 pages.
World According to Mister Rogers, The; by Fred Rogers. 197 pages.
Ze Page Total: 5,859.
The Best Part
Catch You Later, Traitor, by Avi
“Pete,” said Mr. Ordson, “we live in a time of great mistrust. This is not always a bad thing. People should question things. However, in my experience, too much suspicion undermines reason.”
I shook my head, only to remember he couldn’t see me.
“There’s a big difference,” he went on, “between suspicion and paranoia.”
“What’s . . . paranoia?”
“An unreasonable beliefe that you are being persecuted. For example,” Mr. Ordson went on,” I’m willing to guess you’ve even considered me to be the informer. After all, you told me you were going to follow your father. Perhaps I told the FBI.”
Startled, I stared at him. His blank eyes showed nothing. Neither did his expression. It was as if he had his mask on again.
“Have you considered that?” he pushed.
“No,” I said. But his question made me realize how much I’d shared with him. Trusted him. How he’d become my only friend. And he was the only one I hoad told I was going to follow my dad. Maybe he did tell the FBI.
He said, “I hope you get my point.”
Silcence settled around us. Loki looked around, puzzled.
Mr. Ordson must have sensed what I was thinking because he said, “Now, Pete, you don’t really have any qualms about me, do you?”
Yes, perlious times then. Who to trust? And perlious times now, with paranoia running even deeper than during the Red Scare . . .
2 comments:
We had snow here Sunday morning. Lots of it. Apparently, snow follows you wherever you go.
It's a curse. We have a similar effect on cash register lines. No matter which one we pick, something will go wrong with it.
Thanks again for letting us come visit. I know we're not terribly exciting people.
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