A lot. Inches of it. Branches weighted down, forsythia lying on the ground. It's supposed to warm up into the 40s by the end of the day, and be back in the 60s by the middle of the week. Gah.
April 7--Chumbe Island, Zanzibar. Tom and Sue loved the native look of the bungalows at their resort. The little buildings, just one room each with a bathroom, nestled in the trees, their swooping roof peaks open on either end to catch the breeze. "And with authentic photovoltaic cells to run the hair dryer," Tom said, with a snort. Tom was the camper of the couple. He told long tales of trips taken into the wilderness as a boy with only his jackknife and a waterproof match. Sue liked her comforts and thought the Holiday Inn was about the right level of roughing it. She tolerated Tom's ribber her about needing her comforts and she didn't say a word when he complained that his beer wasn't cold enough. Not a word. She just smiled.
Now I've got to unbury my little car so I can get to work so I can go to writer's tonight. I'm excited to go to writer's since we haven't had a meeting for 3 week. Three weeks! That's way too long to not go to writer's.
--Barbara
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