||[Jan. 13th, 2018|11:58 pm]
For some reason I thought I'd posted an entry tonight, but I just discovered I never got around to it. Either that or sometime during the last couple of hours I've slipped into an alternate timeline in which I didn't do it. I hate when that happens. I never know what has been left behind, or what will become of it.|
But the frogs made it into this timeline. They began their song at dusk and have continued since, filling the cool night air with their warm vibrations. I'm pretty sure the frogs are transcendent, and manage to stitch all the dimensions and all the timelines together with their music, so it probably doesn't matter whether I am coming temporally unstuck or not.
Should time remain true to the current predictions, I will go buy food tomorrow, and go get my head yanked about by the chiropractor Tuesday, when there is now predicted to be morning rain that will be continuing from Monday night. Then more rain will arrive Wednesday or early Thursday, and a brief snowstorm could be here from late Friday evening into early Saturday morning. Frogs willing.
In short, it could be an interesting week. I believe that's an old Roman curse: "May you live through an interesting week." I wonder what old Roman has cursed me? The frogs probably know, but if they are telling me with their croaks I don't know how to interpret them. To bad. I'd love to speak frog language. They must have some fascinating tales to tell. Far more interesting than my journal entires, I'm sure.