Saturday, February 09, 2008

Snowshoeing Through the Democratic Battleground

The storms have left behind cars stacked high with snow, trees dripping with icicles, potholes deep as wading pools and sidestreets rutted with ice. Now, ten more inches are predicted for Monday, the day before the Wisconsin Primary. That won't stop us from going out to see the candidates and it certainly won't stop us from voting, even if we have to snowshoe on over to the polling places.

Check your political ideals against the candidates' at Electoral Compass, you may surprise yourself.

Snow Day - The Fort


After 30 hours and 14 or more inches of snow, the schools, libraries and shopping malls closed, the freeways were blocked and the bussed stopped running. The kids battled cabin fever by playing on the upper front porch. Close enough for Mai Mai to come in and out as she pleased and loaded with enough snow for a settlement of igloos. Juj, a.k.a. the architect, built a snow fort, fashioned a few stairs for Mai Mai and stockpiled snowballs (for a rainy day?).

Sunday, February 03, 2008

The Snow it Falls

Snow falls in shifts, light and steady or quick and heavy. I slide on ice puddles, slop through melted slush, tread unsteadily down sidwalks left unshoveled. We see our breath puff like dragons, hear the car rattle its frozen metal through white tunnel alleys. The snow glistenes, throws blueish shadows, and continues falling through the night. Cars are burried in side-of-the-road snow drifts, trees get sprinkled stiff, plows scratch and scrape their heavy blades at squeaky, stubborn snow. It works its way down into our boots and inside our gloves, it gusts in our faces and stops our breath. We brush and shovel and wipe it away, but still is falls. White and new and powerful, the snow and its magic fall on us, over and over and over.