Harry N. Konst, Esq. of the Sicilian trip just emailed the lot of us to inform that the day after we left Sicily Mount Etna blew some vulanized molecules into the crisp air.

CBS News RAW: The southeastern crater of Sicily's snow-covered Mt. Etna volcano belched lava, smoke and ash. Vulcanologists say this latest eruptive spell poses no danger to people.

When You witness how closely people live near the craters You do wonder.
Yours Truly has met her fair share of vulcanologists at the big U and have concluded thusly: Vulcanologists are a nutty bunch.
Do we trust their words, these magma weather people.

One of the more unforgettable Sicily images emblazoned is the hardened, antique lava flows that remain on the landscape - deep, black rock, in Euro parlance a few meters high/deep. The devastation possibilites of these wide paths of lava is there, right there, remaining from every flow.

Last night had a job for the big U and had to shuffle dozens upon dozens of awardees to and fro, a real work-out. I had an excellent suggestion to the event planners to efficiently keep groups of awardees (You see, they are categorically photographed, without getting into too many details) together - duct tape. They'd only be un-duct taped when they needed to be photographed - to heck with worries about delicate fabrics, documentation is more important. Left a cable behind at the locale (a pool-scented Holiday Inn in the suburbs) and had to return today to fetch it and discovered that the room so full of students last night was today full of evangels who were lunching ... books on Mother Theresa, paraphernalia on merch tables and confessions being heard in another, smaller banquet room.

In midst of another gig right now, in sub-midst of a break and need to head out to ghostful East Aurora soon. Exact locale is Roycroft, home of the best verandas in Western New York, in my non-humble op. A fine destination for sniffing their courtyard garden, enjoying a cocktail, maybe some light shopping.

Onwards to that crafty exurb of the Middling City.
After my absence the MC looks flat, dark. Where are the cactii, the vibrant flowers.
I ask. Coming, You reply.

Magmatic Love.