Archangelic Forecast.

Somehow crawling locally forecastward has of late been difficult, though not for lack of weather: Yesterday's scuttling ragged storm remnants made for quite the show out in 27244, where it seems I now nearly live. It is that time in the semester, though.

Today may well have been the last flannel-shirted day, but we're not quite ready to call it here at Official ANYLF Set-In Spring HQ. There's a feeling among the staff that there may be yet a post-azaleal low-clouded misty day out there in front of us wherein all is plenty green, but wherein one could drink more coffee and more, shuck on a flannel, huddle on the porch in the wet with a copy of some book you've been meaning and meaning to get at but haven't yet.

You think azaleal isn't a word? Today was the last day of Moby-Dick out there at J. Crew U., and I had the distinct pleasure of discussing the adjective archangelic. Those kids are plenty mad at me. The white whale doesn't turn up until give or take page 600. They'd been, I think, expecting something a little sooner.

Tomorrow: warmer. Weekend: warmer still. The plot of a story that came through workshop this week: NBA superstar has singer-songwriter heart of gold beneath gruff athletic exterior. Today's use of colons at ANYLF: excessive.