Due to technical difficulties, I am unable to bring you the blog I started writing last night. I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but the computer curse struck again! This time, it’s the cord. (Nothing is safe.) If you’re wondering if a three-prong plug will still work if one of the prongs breaks off inside the socket, the answer is–yes, actually, but a bit sporadically. Last night the amputated plug was just not able to pump out enough juice. (If you’re also wondering–yes, I’m pretty sure this is a fire just waiting to happen.) This is seriously about the 17th cord I’ve gone through; I think it’s a conspiracy designed to keep Steve Jobs in designer underwear.
ANYHOO, today, instead, I leave you with these photos to ponder, courtesy of my middle sister (momof2dancers), who happens to live right behind me. She sent me these photos while I was at work one day, sending a chill immediately down my spine. Yes, this is my house, with a huge, black, foreboding bird perched on top.
I’m pretty sure Edgar Allan Poe is buried under the foundation.