PacificWalrus of Bluster

I was awake for an hour in the middle of the night after having a Lovecraftian nightmare. I mean, really Lovecraftian, like a fanfic. And I am the farthest thing possible from being a Lovecraft fan. I'm like an anti-fan. Monstrous creatures infiltrating from the depths, sending forth vile emanations that turned humans into glassy-eyed, torpid flesh puppets who existed only to serve the Old Gods by spreading the contagion. Aaack. I had to turn the bedside light on, which is the eleventy of nightmares. And there I lay, with the words, "In his house in R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu lies dreaming" going through my mind however hard I tried to banish them, too disturbed to sleep yet too tired to get up and distract myself. Eventually I did go back to sleep, though. To look on the bright side, my creative imagination has certainly been working overtime, even though it has unfortunately gone to the dark side.

I suited up and shoveled everything again. Yesterday's snow was wet and heavy, crusted in the way where it breaks up into nice chunks when shoveled or when it falls off the car. A line of tracks crossed the yard, and I assumed it was the friendly neighborhood squirrel or rabbit. When I came to the middle of the driveway, I saw the marks of little hooves and realized it was a deer. The deer were walking through our neighborhood again. I also did the side walk, the back steps, and the porch roof. When I was up on the roof, I looked out over the yard but didn't see any tracks back there, so I guess the deer didn't jump the fence. They must have walked between the houses from some woodsy patch on the other side. The Sparrowhawk is having knee problems, so I hauled his 28 pound bag of birdseed out of the car and put it in the bucket in the shed, so he can fill the bird feeder when he gets around to it.