Max and his giant feet

And my giant sweatshirt.

Isn't forced perspective fun, boys and girls?

Actually, the giant sweatshirt is pretty ridiculously large in real life, too...





Anyway.

I don't really have much to say at the moment. As is usual for a Sunday morning I've got the music playing (NOT Christmas carols, no matter what yesterday's post may have made you think. I like Christmas carols but I don't need to be constantly surrounded by them even if carol season has officially arrived), I've got the laundry folded, and after I post a poem on the other blog I'll probably just waste some time playing a silly game or two before lunch.

Nice to have ambition, don't you think?

Hey, it's better than being snitty about the weather, which I still could be. The fact that I haven't been outside since Friday night has put me in a temporarily better mood on that front. Ask me tomorrow and I'll have some choice words for you yet again.

Stupid winter.





Urgh. That was dangerously close to the Return of the Snit. Best leave off for now then. Off to my other corner of the cyberverse to be artsy, I guess.