Sourdough on a Sweet Afternoon

The river's just starting to recede after its latest overflow from the rain and I took some sourdough bread to the ducks yesterday.




Duck prints were everywhere, here solidified a bit up the hill, a relic of a higher water level.



Little Lady and the Tramp moment here. My bread brings ducks together.

I'm short on time to-day. In addition to to-night being my long night at school--Thursday strikes again--I have to pick up my cousin from school. I've been looking everywhere for my copy of Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me to listen to in my car, partly because I remember listening to it a lot when I went to school ten years ago. Trying to recapture a more innocent time, using The Cure as a catalyst like Randolph Carter in the "The Silver Key". I also just watched the newest Sym-Bionic Titan wherein Lance joins a teenage rock band with a distinctly Cure sound. Another good episode. Though maybe most viewers recognise the band as having a distinctly some-other-band-influenced-by-the-Cure sound. Bright Eyes or whoever the latest one is. Or maybe there isn't one--I heard on Howard Stern last week that for the first time a rock album didn't even break the top twenty in the Billboard 200. As Robin Quivers observed, rock has kind of gone the way of jazz.

So it goes.