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6 December 2007 / April

Three inches

There are three inches of snow lying peacefully on the road outside my house.

Do you see what is wrong with this sentence? Three inches. Snow. On the road. (By Jack Kerouac.) Not being shoveled away by big orange machines with flashing yellow lights. And more is falling.

We couldn’t drive up the slope this evening. So I had a nice walk.

Nice in a very “I’m in sneakers walking in three inches of cold white stuff and it’s no more than 15 degrees and it’s dark and I forgot to wear a hat” sort of way. Yes, that was one very long adjective. And not having a hat in this situation is only trivial if you don’t have ears.

Pretty much the entire rest of my day was awesome though. I think the Powers That Be declared today “Day During Which April Shall Come Across Many Old Friends With Whom She Has Not Spoken In A Long Time”. Which was cool. Especially when these unexpected meetings involved friends I literally haven’t talked to in years— yet somehow, we can still laugh as though nothing has changed.

I was going to make this a lot longer, more detailed, more eloquent, and more related to the hilarious time we spent in US History not giving speeches.

But then it got all midnight on me and my body is sending me strong “Go to bed, idiot, the blog can wait another day” signals. I think I’d better abide, or else I could get excommunicated. By my own body, no less. How embarrassing would that be.

And no, I have no idea where all those annoyingly verbose quotation-marked atrocities came from. They just crawled out from the forest during my cold walk home and latched onto my elbows. And they won’t leave. I’m sorry.


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