A four line poem about: ice.
Snow is falling, we're sitting by the fireplace after a dinner featuring roasted chicken. This afternoon I did some painting while Kat moved some stuff into the (essentially) finished kitchen. It's been a good day.
Tomorrow's plan: get the first coat of paint on the last living room/kitchen wall, move some more stuff into the kitchen, maybe get started on painting the interior doors.
But for now, I rest. And hope that Georges St. Pierre knocks Josh Koscheck into next week in a little less than an hour.
In the middle of a frozen pond,
Isaac lay on his back.
He marveled at the stars above,Until he heard a crack.