It wasn't long after the baby was born, on one of those days when he was fussier than usual and Shelley wished the weather would turn warm enough to melt the snow a little so she could drive into town and see another adult human being for just an hour. Maybe just half an hour, just long enough to be around someone else who was chirpy and bubbly and fun to be with, who would make her feel good again and keep her from sinking again, something that seemed to happen more often than not any more. She could drive through the drifts. Drifts were little more than snow out of place the way weeds, her college professor had said ages ago, were flowers out of place.

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A potted history

The Flat Earth Society has a new rival - The Cult of the Pot Earth. This finely crafted 'globe' of the earth depicts what followers of the cult believe the Earth to look like. They're absolutely barmy of course, but it is a nice pot.

Hmm, this pot is a little on the large side. Perhaps there is something hidden inside.