I spent most of yesterday trying to beat back the glacier threatening to take over the driveway, and eyeing up the icicles that are starting to look like portcullis spikes, thinking I should knock them down before they impale someone. Now only a third of the driveway is covered by ice. I'm winning that battle, at least until the next round of snow. Winter--bah.
Manning cursed as he looked at his hurting foot. A thorn from one of the cacti nestled in the rock had pierced the side of his shoe and worked its way into the soft flesh of his arch. He carefully scrutinized the next boulder he came to before sitting down. It took a moment for him to work up the nerve to begin gingerly working the devilishly sharp clump of thorn out. His breath hissed between his teeth and his blood flowed fresh and red to splash on the rocks where it immediately was absorbed. Manning tore a strip from his khaki shirt to stanch the blood and act as a temporary bandage. Blistering the hot, still air with curses, he retied his shoe and, limping only a little, resumed his climb.
I do like the single-mindedness of Manning's pursuit of Jack and Jack's money. Maybe that slight pleasure will lure me back to my desk. I can only hope. Yay for 3 sunny days in a row!
--Barbara
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