I've been unable to open the LJ login page all night. Then, a few minutes ago, after my most recent failed attempt, I tried opening a journal bookmarked in my lurk list (heh, wouldn't you like to know), and it opened right up, and I was able to log in from a BML page. Well, if I'd figured that out ten hours ago, I wouldn't have had to spend all that time downloading porn looking at e-Bay postcard auctions. (He he. I never get tired of that joke. I'll bet everybody else does, though.) Anyway, I've squandered the whole night, now. But today is another day, I suppose. In fact today is 03 03 03. I like that! And just think, we can look forward to a date such as this once each year for the next nine years! Yes, yes, I know. I'm much too easily amused. I'm also much too tired to do anything else tonight. But at least I now know how to sneak into LJ by the side door when Frank won't let me in at the front.
The storm came in from the north, massed battleship gray clouds advancing as the sun retreated. For a while, bright rays shone from behind their forward ranks, and in the western sky, smaller white clouds basked in sunlight on a pale blue blanket. Across the canyon to the east, as the world fell into storm shadow, The upper third of the ridge glowed in lingering light, a rampart of bright green trees. It must have been raining there already-- sun showers-- as the air above the trees glittered with a particular brightness. As I hurried home from my walk, the day rapidly darkened to an eerie dimness, and the blue in the west vanished. As I reached my door, the first raindrops fell, and within a few minutes the downpour was drumming on the roof and echoing in the chimney. It only lasted an hour or so, and the clouds opened a window to the west large enough to let a bit of sunset through, and illuminate all the bright drops clinging to the bushes and grass; a brief glimpse of the refreshed world, before night fell.
