Heaps upon piles of snow today. Very wet snow, too — the temperature sat at around 32 degrees all day. (That’s zero for you Canadian readers.) Snow is great for writers — you can stare out at it with your chin on your hand, or go out and push it around if you get blocked.
I did both. I forgot to mention, one of our household gifts to ourselves this year was a snowblower. I’ve disdained them in the past, but that was before I got a long driveway, and now I can’t imagine living without it. It’s more satisfying than mowing the lawn. I took it out at midafternoon in hopes it would make some of my calls be returned. It didn’t, but I got the driveway cleared. Afterward, I glowered at a downspout that seemed entirely clogged with ice. I disconnected it and ran hot water over it, piece by piece, until the huge chunks of ice fell out and it ran clear. Why is such a task so absurdly satisfying? Because, unlike writing a big essay, it gets done and when it’s done, stays done, pretty much. I can concentrate on clearing the downspout in ways I can never concentrate on writing.
Should have been a gutter-cleaner. Clambering around on roofs, I’d think about essays I want to write.
Now the snow’s shin-deep. And it’s perfect for packing. A winter fun-derland!
Now, to the bloggage.
This is not bloggage, but in checking the TV guide, I just found these shows on TLC, back-to-back: “The Boy Whose Skin Fell Off,” followed by “Born With Two Heads,” followed by “Archie, the 84-Pound Baby.” Have yourself a merry little Christmas.
Hey, dads! Looking for a meaningful gift for your teenage daughter? How about a symbolic representation of her hymen, in precious metals? Plus: There’s a suggested ceremony, woo-hoo.
I can’t stand to read one more word about That Cowboy Movie, but I gritted my teeth and got through these, and I was glad I did.
I like good design as much as the next girl, but this is ridiculous.