It never rains but it pours — except in New England in March, when it snows. On Friday we got a fairly respectable blast of snow, followed by plenty of rain. So, on Saturday, St. Patrick’s Day, we ended up shovelling snow with the consistency of mashed potatoes.

Close readers of our earlier posts will see that we expected all weekend for this new site to appear at any time. Almost all weekend. Sunday evening we checked and discovered that our DNS listing still pointed to our old server. Oh, well. We have yet to make a server change that does not involve a few rude shocks to the system.

During the transition, from about 5 p.m. Sunday to about 10:00 a.m. Monday, our e-mail appears to have gone to some arcane address whose whereabouts we know not. If you sent us anything vital, please re-send. Your original message is probably trapped in some digital limbo, along with a huge supply of spam.

Meanwhile, back in our luxuriously-appointed offices, we’re almost done putting out virtual fires. We have even made some progress filling up the pages, as can be seen by the screenshot at right.

What you’re seeing here are sixteen representations of the sixteen pages of our next paper; that’s page one at the top right. Pages two and three are just below, on the left and the right. And so it goes down to page sixteen at the bottom left. The gray columns are text. The white spaces are yet to be filled.

One of our ambitions for this site, demented though it may be, is to de-mystify the process of making newspapers, on the theory that in so doing we will encourage others of a similarly disenchanted bent to take up the tools and make their own.

For now, we must take our leave and return to those blank white spaces, to fill them with our barbaric yawp.