My candlestick burned my book.

Curses! After felling an oak tree and chopping it into bits for winter warmth, I lit my candle and went to the kitchen to retrieve some refreshment. My candle fell on Remembrance of Things Past, and well, the book is indeed remembered and past. I loved that book. (sob)

It was probably my first foray on to the slippery slope oif my life, buying a book from a printing press. First the press, now the computer...I feel my connection to the natural world sifting through my fingers like ashes. Specifically, the ashes of my now destroyed book.

But why am I writing this on a blog? Why? What weakness! I am a worm, without hope.

But I'm a worm with a blog that doesn't burn in candlelight.

Augh!!! Away!