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Tandra Page 1736, Change Of Season

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I’m sitting on my back porch looking out over the yard as the rising sun brightens the Eastern sky.

When I crawled out of bed this morning, there were clusters of leaves and small twigs from my Oak Trees all over the yard and cluttering up the road as I walked through the cool morning breezes to my shoppe. I have been inclined to call the place where I work my “studio”. That’s an artist’s label for the place, often a room, in some cases a buildingwith arrangements made where the artist produces paintings and drawings for commercial purposes. In many cases the “commercial purpose” is to sell the finished painting or drawing to a customer willing to pay cash for the finished “materpiece”. In my case the commercial purpose is more generally for reproduction in print or on the Internet.

As I think of myself primarily as a writer, my work is generally in illustration of the story I am telling. I sell the story and pictures to subscribers who have an interest in the story I am telling and who enjoy having the story inhanced by way of my illustrations.

Having made my point by way of far too many words, the purpose of all those words was to explain that my “studio” is actually a glorified workshoppe. Of recent, I have commenced to call the building wherein I prepare the illustrations for my story a “Shoppe”. I began to do this for the reason I came to believe the word “studio” is far too highfalutin as an identification of the structure where I work. I have come to decide “Shoppe” describes my work place most adaquately, and I have more over come to prefer calling my work place by the more common name. I guess I’ll continue to label my workspace as a “shoppe” in the immediate future.

From this point forward, you will understand when I call my work space a “shoppe”, I am referring to the same cluttered building I previously called my “studio”. Same structure, different label.

I made note of the cluster of leaves scattered over my yard when I awoke this morning.

Actually I did not so much notice the clutter until around seven thirty when the sun crept over the Eastern Horizon. I simply knew the stuff scattered over my yard had been there since last night when a cold front, complete with rain and wind, came through from the North West. I was inside working on Tandra when the front blew through. I heard acorns falling on my roof and I stuck my head out to see hat was happening.

The weather site on the Internet called it a dangerous thunderstorm. Leave it to weather people to add as much drama to a change of seasons as possible. You would have thought the end of theworld was upon us from the panic warnings posted on the Internet weather site. I suppose if you are a weather prognostigator, you take your excitement where you can find it. No matter a change of season is what happens hereabout pretty much twice per year as in Spring when warm weather approaches and in the Fall when Winter begins to happen.

If you are the type that wants to accellerate the panic, you call the change of seasons “Climate Change” and you proclaim the seasonal change, even to random clouds on the horizon are indications of imminent doom for Western Civilization.

Bottom line is we had the first indication of comming Winter last evening and this morning, aside from cooler temperatures, not much is different. There is not a cloud visible in the sky and it looks to be as though we shall have a nice day ahead.

I plan to make the most of it!

“In the fight for Liberty, you will find the most intense opposition coming at you from slaves who are comfortable in their chains!”

“They’ll know where to find me,” -Rick Blaine, “Casablanca”

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Hanther



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