And now, a post.

The wordy kind, not the supporting kind. Although, it has been my experience that words can be the post kind of supportive...

Hm. Yeah, never mind.

I took a picture of our noisy white rooster (whom mum has named Luciano) standing on the old kickback that we bought Eamon when he was still shorter than me, but is now fencing in our azalea/pine tree patch:



...And the camera was dead. Did I tell you that?

Yes. That is why I am so ridiculously proud of myself.

Whatever possessed me to get both a blog and a Facebook account? Has my mind convinced me that I am not a procrastinator? Or have I come down with a sudden case of advanced dementia?

No, no. This will not do. Radio silence, after all, is only acceptable on the radio. And only sometimes then.
So I have resolved to

1. Finish one thing before I do another.

2. Get into direct contact with my friends to let them know that I have not died and shriveled up.

3. Write once a week.

At least, I believe that with a good deal of poking and prodding, I might get those things done.

Tomorrow.