It is Tuesday, 8-10 pm
Whitefoot and Tami are On Duty.


“Rounds made.
Typical cold, rainy Ore-Gone weather,
with the exception of the possibilities of early spring
in the PDX area. None the less,
things seem to be ill at ease in the Village.”

Whitefoot, follows his weather
entry with a contemplation:

“…And if I go while you’re still here,
know that my spirit still lives on,
vibrating to a different measure,
behind a veil that you cannot see through.

“You will not see me.
So you must have courage
and great faith.

“I will wait for the time
when we can talk and laugh together
as good friends should;
Both aware of each other.

“Until then,
live your life to the fullest.
And when you need me,
when you’re tired, lonely and afraid,
just whisper my name in your heart
and I will be there.

“Rounds made.
All’s good by the way.
Not much going on
other than the constant dripping,
the confounded drizzle of rain drops.
…the dripping of the old damn rain!!

“Rounds made —
rounds are good and done.
All is definitely well.”


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