(no subject)

They said the snow would taper off by midnight. Then by around 2am.

It's still snowing. Steadily.

(UPDATE: The snow has stopped, as of 7:30.)


I have no idea how much snow is out there -- when I look outisde I get an impression of blue shadows on white ground, red brick and bare black tree limbs against a thick white sky. Snowscapes, where every familiar signpost is missing. It doesn't look very deep, which unnerves me -- snowing for that long, and not knee-deep or higher means heavy wet snow that's a bear and a half to shovel.

But I have no inclination to get out there and measure. Maybe later.


This is a good morning to sit and drink tea and contemplate Things.




(although I do like the NYTimes's take on why snowstorms don't freak out the locals: "Snow is not sulfuric acid. Or toxic waste. Or anthrax. It isn't even ugly until the poodles come around.")

O.M.G.

Innocently flipping channels, trying to take some time before going back and beating the website into shape, and I hear...

"This summer, the search for a cure...just made things worse."

So I pause, just long enough to hear further:

"Coming, from Sci-Fi. Mansquito."



Kill it! Kill it! Kill it before it airs!



(Sheeeesh, Sci-Fi! You could have bought any of a dozen Really Good Books to adapt, including mine, and instead you let some production company talk you into that? Bad channel, no biscuit!)