rope. tree. fan. spear. snake. wall.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006


John McCrae said it long before me:

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.

Admittedly, he was talking about the Kaiser's armies, but I face a more implacable foe - the weather. And now that Mom is gone, the task of bitching about the weather falls to me. It's grueling, gut-wrenching work, but someone has to do it. Besides the English, I mean.

All righty, let's jump right in, shall we? It was COLD! Hideously cold, for days and days, I swear I could feel the blood vessels in my face bursting every time I went outside. Ack! Clear, though, the sky and the frost-covered maples across the street were very pretty. Then yesterday it snowed a bit so I sent the Demon Spawn out to shovel sidewalk and driveway and while they were at it, the sleet started and undid all their lovely work. Then overnight it warmed up and rained and turned all that sleet into slush, which then froze solid. We had a giant pile of heavy, slushy snow fall off our garage roof, that had to be cleared so we could get the car in and out of the garage. And now it's all killer-slippy, frozen slush, and worst of all, it's COLD again! Aaagh!

And the worst thing? It's still. Only. January.

I've changed my mind. There is no more ambivalence: I want that job in Lubbock.

1 comment:

Elemmaciltur said...

which job? where? lubbock? L├╝beck?