Okay, so where the hell have I been? The summer has sighed into fall's wheezy breezes, and as we overcome the latest cold, dripping crackling snuffling, we awaken to a new fall season at the gallery. New exhibits to tour, new words to read, new things to think about and present in some sort of coherence to young minds. And here I am, caught without a tool to notate my process, caught scrambling ...

So, word on the street is that a new router is in order for this blog to continue with Blogger at home on our trusty server. Active vs passive ftp. My inner luddite shrugs her shoulders and wishes the technology bugs would just work their own way out, but we know this attitude will take us nowhere. In the meantime, we will take advantage of Blogspot. I have looked at other tools, and I can't bear to change my blogwear. A creature of habit, of course!

But let's get back to the cold for a moment. I think I was almost insane last night, squeaking in a tiny voice, my throat burning, tearing eyes, sinuses on fire. My throat, btw, feels like it has two large peeled grapes in the place where my tonsils used to be. Ick. So I had a hot bath with epsom salts this eve, and a dash of juniper foam bath. I do feel better, and I hope that I will be able to resume my normal routine tomorrow. It is the first class of the yoga programme I signed up for, and I do want to attend.