Snow-tober

 

Today was the first day of snow, and suffice to say, everyone was shocked. Sure, we had warning of the 20 degree drop from yesterday (it'll be back up another 30 tomorrow, doubling our current temps), but it's been a year since we've all felt the bitter chill of below freezing, and I don't think anyone was really ready for a snow day. The photo above was taken from my cell phone downtown at about 11:00am, and you can't see it but it is still snowing. We're expecting a foot (some places have already gotten it) by the end of all this. Trains (light rails) were stopped or delayed, buses were late, I don't even want to hear the traffic reports, and pedestrians everywhere were drenched with wet snow from the knees down.

Just yesterday I was thinking that despite everything, I've come to have a certain fondness for this quirky place. Today is another example of my odd relationship with this town. On the one hand, the cold is very unwelcome. Years in the desert make me quite content calling 50 degrees "freezing beyond belief". The unexpected day off of work and the chance to snuggle under the blanket with a good book for a couple hours though... (What? I'll do homework in a minute. I wouldn't be doing it if I were at work anyway). There are also definite plans for hot chocolate (thanks, Grandma!), cookies (thanks, Mom!) and caramel apples (thanks, Me!) tonight. 

Maybe a snow day in October is just what the doctor ordered...

Life in Humanities: A Pair of Limericks

There once was a student from 'zona
Who went on a trip to Roma.
But when she came home,
She'd too many loans,
So she sought out a Master's Diploma.

'Twas late into this education
She looked for a job in frustration.
"There's nowhere to go,
And with loans looming, lo!"
Said the poor homework-squished shut-in.



*I know the last line is awkward... put the stress on the first, fourth, and seventh syllables and it should be better. I'm homework squished, not muse-inspired, remember?

A True Story

 

One day not too long ago, I encountered a creature who was lying in wait just inches away from where I was standing. I decided to capture the killer and display it as a trophy before letting it go back into the wilds, in order to test my fortitude. Arming myself with only a trap and my wits, I crept back to the place where I had spotted it, and raising my hand, faced off with the creature. Its eyes looked into mine, its legs tensed, ready to spring. Flash! My hand sprang forward before it could pounce, and the beast was mine.

I held it for some time as a trophy of my prowess, but in the end succumbed to my merciful nature. Taking it still in its cage back to the area from whence it came, I lifted the lid of the trap and watched as it breathed fresh air. It almost seemed reluctant to leave, and I did not understand why. How was I to know that it had begun to make a new home while in captivity? I rattled the cage, I beat on the sides, and finally I upturned the thing to force the creature out! How dare it not take advantage of this kindness, when I could have easily kept it in my clutches! But the beast was more cunning than I had given it credit for, and as soon as it was out of the cage it tensed its legs again, ready to pounce. I backed away, not prepared for another encounter and wary of its vengeance. It looked at me, and I at it, and many seconds went by with neither of us breathing or moving. Finally, it began circling to my left. I backed to my right. It made a dash for a ledge off to my side, probably preparing to launch itself at me! I had prepared for a strategic retreat, however, and had released the thing near a barrier which it could not penetrate. As it ran along the ledge, I backed into my fortress and sealed the barrier, watching the beast's reaction to my actions. Predictably, it stopped, confused and unsure how to proceed. Satisfied, I turned my back on it for the first time since letting it go, secure in my fortifications.

Sometimes, at night, I still see it running along the edge, seeking cracks in my walls that it may exact revenge for its time in captivity. I can only hope I did not make a mistake.