Unfortunately, the first bones out of Mimesius' Yahtze cup were lost. Being Greek, he rolled them when no one was looking. Being blind, he could not himself conduct a thorough search. Being an archer, he could not organize a party to help him search. And being a GOM, he forgot where it happened anyway.

We are delayed until a worthy and skillful archer steps forth to provide our Seer with newly captured bones.

Until then, the guess from this week is that central Ohio's January will end with warm, balmy breezes, blue skies and sunshine, and possibly some ice melt around the campfires.

I see archers of all kinds (bring some osage for Keith) huddled at fatboy's tent. Southern men, mostly (bring some osage for Keith), hoping for the heat (bring some osage for Keith) he'd sworn that he sent.

He brings (bring some osage for Keith) for our hunters' comfort, Mimesius sees, warmth from the south in both sunshine (bring some osage for Keith) and breeze.

The days (bring some osage for Keith) will shine brightly, nights remain (bring some osage for Keith) dry. Friends will feast on venison (bring some osage for Keith), OK, that parts a lie.

The game (bring some osage for Keith) is quite spooky, needlessly (bring some osage for Keith) so, for hunters are here primarily for show.

My vision is (bring some osage for Keith) cloudy, there is impurity here, from a northerner (bring some osage for Keith) lusting the wood he holds dear.

Without bearing (bring some osage for Keith) gifts, offerings of yellow, the rain may fall frozen (bring some osage for Keith) on GORH and its fellows.

A stave or a (bring some osage for Keith) billet will more than guarantee, weather hot and dusty, just wait and see.

And if you're put off (bring some osage for Keith) by this selfish endeavor, whiteness will bury your (bring some osage for Keith) campsites, Forever.

"Balm" or "Bomb", which will it be, that greets the Brave Scouts late in January? An Arctic blast has encompassed the land, and fortnights may pass ‘ere it bodes well, again. Warm breezes may swirl ‘fore the weekend it through, but the bare bones of winter shall also poke through. Warm woolens, or gym shorts… which will suffice to bring bodily comfort to our friends, bold and nice?

"Killer" or "Kill-ed", which will they be, as the chase through the Glen unfolds dutifully? It starts as a Lark, but how will it end us? Of Vulture or Bluebird, just one will befriend us. A Pregnant suspense looms long o’er the Earth, and all pause to see to what Winter gives birth. Death now in Life, and Life now in Death, the Bones have spoken with dark, baited Breath.

"Boom", then, or "Bust", which will it be as the GORH finds its place in Hist’ry? Brave Scouts of Old have long since turned to Dust, what can be hoped now for the Rest of US? Shafts of strong Hickory, with tapered diameter, may fail in this flight of Iambic Pentameter. Frigid or Balmy, Young Lamb or Griz’, turns then on what the definition of "IS", is, is, is…..

Read. Weep. Fletch. Tiller. More will follow.

I wouldn't wanta worry ya none but...

I infiltrated a meeting of the Citrus Growers of Interior Alaska on the word that the vegetarians amongst em were up to no good. I was a bit concerned to find out that they have spent billions of dollars of PETA funds to lengthen the Growing season here in Fairbanks thus reducing the need for subsistance hunting in our Great State.

What does this have to do with Rabbits, pigs, beagles and weather in Ohio you ask? Seems that part of the funds went to install some humongus fans out near the old Missile site southeast of town and the intention is to create a man-made "Arctic Express". The problem for the C.G.s was "Where to put the cold air so as not to make anybody mad?" I woulda figgured they would use Minnesota for a dumping ground since they might not notice, but, rumor has it that a secret GPS coordinate discovered on the internet has been chosen. Further rumors and scuttlebutt says that date and time chosen would disrupt some get together of "Heagels and Beathens" preparing to descend on hapless bunnies somewhere in Ohio...

Coinkydink? I think Not! The weather over the last few days was just a test run of the fans. Once the final coordinates are set, Ohio will have a new definition of "Balmy"...I aint no soothsayer, but I say pack up a few extra batteries for the electric pig blankets.

On a side note, the USPS was notified of a SNAFU with the half dozen Alaskan Lynx that were destined for Colorado were somehow sent to the same coordinants. Again, I would not worry except that these lynx were baited into box traps with the sound of a pig squeel muted by a sleeping bag, and fed frozen beagle meat from the local pound.

Course, this could be just a rumor...

Of arms and the man I sing... As a Virgil disciple, frankly, I prefer Hank Hill to Homer.

Mimesius has let me know that Zephyrus brings warmth to the frozen heartland. The mighty Odeaneus will be forced to ferry, Charon-like, the warriors on a barge across the parking lot as the white blanket is withdrawn. Many will be his tasks, but like Great Hercules will he grapple with each in turn and wear their Nimean skins on his broad shoulders, or perhaps his Searsian slippers on his feet as he sets forth in the Barcolounger.

Cousin Mimesius sends some additional musings, as soothsayers are wont:

He predicts that the men from across the wine dark sea will bring a large offering, rabbit shaped, to present as a peace gesture to Brer' Rabbit. It will be parked, for Brer's convenience, at the entrance to the main briar patch. Be sure to drag it inside, for it smells of the tons of carrots placed therein by the disciples of Lepus, the rabbit god.

Mimesius further predicts that once JK has tasted of the sauce of the Fat one from the southland he no longer will suffer from the cold, but will instead suffer from the gastric pox. None will share the lodgings of the formerly frozen one who leaneth left and spouteth forth complex verbage to challenge the mind. Visible modalities will include a challenge on the field of Scrabble, Quixotic (on a triple word score) as that field may be.

The Cereberus of the event, Tomboy, will send the spotted ones howling in terror. Only a heroic dog of the great Chesapeake breed could strike him down, but none are invited to the fray, for fear that they will eat the other canine participants. Cruel will be the results of this oversight, and many will be the garments rent by those who seek the dark briars for their errant hounds.

I hear the future when my bones rattle,

They speak of horror while old men prattle.

When the ice recedes and the ground turns bare,

The hordes will come tripping ... The Rabbit's snare.

What once was green must turn sere and dead,

What once was white must now turn red.

Ah, blind though I be,

I can still see.

The bones, they rolls,

And Mimesius knows.

The bunnies, they plot

From their hidden woodlot.

Cold Maker wanes with a brief interlude,

But he will return to test the GOMs' fortitude