For some insane reason, every now and then an SUV rolls by on the main road at the far end of my lot. Just because plows are going by regularly in an effort to keep things under control is no reason to test it, guys.
This is our first real Fimbulwinter storm since the “Snowmageddon” double whammy of 2010. The grocery shelves have been denuded since midweek, but at ten this morning ambitious assholes were still mobbing the REI next to my gym. I’d like to think these were not people who fecklessly omitted to procure cold weather gear until the last blessed minute; maybe they were renting cross-country skis. All I know is they were clogging up the parking lot. I don’t know why something like seventy per cent of REI’s customers are couples dragging 2.3 kids, the mom sporting shoulder length dishwater blonde hair under a knitted cap, the children, if girls, wearing the puke pink that is apparently now the only legal color for little girls to wear. They all drive sport utes and they can’t park them.
Because everything is more real if it’s framed in a little screen, the Washington Post is live-streaming it.
There you are, for the benefit of people who can’t actually just look out their own windows and follow along. Possibly they are tuned into this in bunkers under the Pentagon.
A white raven half as big as the world, shading us all under wings that blot out the sun and moon. (I like that better than Snowzilla. It just doesn’t fit in a Tweet.) So far he’s gliding on those wings, not beating them. I hope everyone gets inside before he starts.