We’re all familiar with the phrase ‘Kicking the bucket’, a euphemism, presumably derived during an era where staging one’s own demise was accomplished by standing on a bucket, securing a noose, and kicking away. Goodbye cruel world.
Thank you, not only to my WordPress 500, but to all my subscribers, and any others who surreptitiously visit under the cover of darkness, like Batman, hidden behind the anonymity of a faceless Avatar.
While I’m not exactly in unfamiliar territory, I find myself adrift in the withered waters of a dullard’s creative spectrum, struggling to reignite a meandering muse.
For those living in North America, or anyone who visits for that matter, February 2nd marks an important day in the proliferation of prognostication. Never mind the Farmer’s Almanac, each 2nd of February, Americans and Canadians predicate their annual battle with Seasonal Affective Disorder, on the predictions of a rodent.