Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Tracks getting less deep

Comparing the tracks one could find in Seanhenge

during January,

those in March are less deep.
So there's hope ...

the snow shovel can soon be put asleep.


  1. Are you sure that last pic isn't you waving your banner and joining in with my campaign?

  2. Ha ha, I kneeew it, CherryPie!
    Herewith I declare that my shadow is part of your campaign - the mighty (snow) shovel inclusive. :)

  3. It is so good to have your support :-) Your shadow will be posted far and wide. The people will listen! and we will win ;-)

  4. :)
    Fingers crossed, CherryPie.
    [Do I need adding that I mean it?]

  5. No need for adding anything because I know you mean it :-)

  6. Ahh, lovely ... and good to know.
    So take the rest you urgently need, so that you are fit when tomorrow we meet, you and my shadow. :)
    The peace of the night, CherryPie.

  7. :-) the peace of the night to you and me both :-)

  8. Very scary photo, in my opinion. Looks more like a hammer or an axe than a banner

  9. It's, as Mrs. Doyle might say, but the effin' snow shovel, Andrew.

    That's - apart of being being far from being my ductus -, of course, unfair against the dear tool. What would I have done without her (sic) during the past three months?!
    I think I'd rather present her a bunch of spring flowers ... in case this effin' winter ever ends. :)

  10. I don't know why but I find your shadow very reassuring. Like CherryPie says...someone rushing to help people.

    If I didn't see so much snow on the blogs, I would believe that snow has disappeared from the universe. Here, presently, it's rain, rain, and rain again. I wish I could pass through the wormhole and shovel the last bit of your snow, Sean. I would need a smaller shovel though. Yours looks taller than I am. One never knows. Maybe changing continent might elongate people....

  11. The shovel's stem is indeed slightly taller than you, Claudia. I'd leave nothing undone, though, to organise a shorter one. To be even more precisely: a very very tiny one. :)

  12. I'll bring my tablespoon, Sean.:))))

  13. Ah, Claude,
    [six minutes later, still slightly out of breath from rolling on the floor]
    please forget about bringing a table spoon. I could not forgive myself letting carrying you such heavy aluggage to the airport.
    I'll provide one for you; a very light one, of course.