15 inches of the white stuff built up over the New Year period, confining us to quarters, and it was accompanied by several nights of intense frost. I think we reached -13 one night and, as a result, a pipe in our outhouse burst and completely washed out a wallet that was already wet with the tears of an expensive Xmas period.
My other work - my far-too real shift work - also decided to stamp its size 12s all over my free time, with extra hours and stress on top of a working regime that's being kicked and punched eveywhichway by the Powers That Be, who are using the word "recession" like a beating stick. It's driving me towards an early grave. Seriously. I have to get out of there.
But how can I when, when, one week after that pipe fiasco our faithful TV decides to blow its final gasket? Yep, our 28" Hitachi bit the dust. We bought it with our wedding vouchers, ten years ago. It was our original widescreen friend. Our best pal. We'd laughed with it. We'd cried with it. Now it was gone. So we dried our eyes and bought a gleaming 40" Series Seven Samsung LCD that's a wonder to behold. But one look at my poor, poor wallet gets the ducts flowing again.
Meanwhile, there's BLIP, which I've been coming back to at every available oppurtunity. You might recall, this was supposed to be a 48-page shoo-in, back in the day. And it was all supposed to be wrapped up for Xmas. Ha. If only. You see, over the festive period I reached that magic page count - or at least, I pencilled and inked that far - only to experience something of an epiphany. Why, this li'l old cosmic encounter was over too briefly. It needed more breadth. So I scrapped and rejigged a run of pages, and I expanded it, and now, I'm currently steaming through a bunch of additions which will bring the finished project in at around 56 pages.
I guess that's the beauty of a self-managed project like this. You can add an subtract as you please, without interference. Of course, the danger is that you end up tweaking and adjusting forever, as your original finish line fades in to the distance. But that's not likely here. Not with the Night Shift From Hell looming large over my life. It's there at all times, grinning over my shoulder, beckoning me towards its filthy maw, and it will swallow me whole if I let go of my dreams for just one second...