Three words: butt-ass freezing cold.
Seattle’s not equipped for this Arctic air shit. Inch or so of snow and ice, and the entire city shuts down. Having already been in one car accident this year, I decided to forgo a second. The car stayed home, and I hoofed it to work. At least the sun was shining, although it was too fucking cold for the birds to sing. A coworker mercifully dropped me at home tonight, where I promptly immersed myself in a tub of hot water until all the bits thawed.
Yesterday, the cat and I lounged around inside and watched it snow. Well, I watched it snow – she watched the crows playing in it and developed aspirations of becoming an apex predator:
This is what the cat thought she could catch:
The trees on the ridge got all snow-coated:
And while my porch is sheltered, that didn’t protect my Richmond Beach finds:
So now, we’re continuing on with our Superman marathon courtesy of Encore On-Demand. Unfortunately, this means watching Superman III. I can’t call it an abortion, because abortions frequently save the lives of mothers and are therefore a positive good, whereas this movie has, so far, only one redeeming feature: the line, “Pay attention, people, I’m about to take a human life!” That didn’t make it worth it, but it’s quotable. And I hear Christopher Reeve’s performance as Bad Supes eases some of the pain, so we’ll stick with it.
If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, you’ll know that bad movies can, indeed, kill.
Meanwhile, if you haven’t had your fill of snowy Northwest photos, Cujo’s got a nice one of his backyard, and Dan McShane’s got a lovely shot of the Skagit Valley.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve hit one of those points in the movie that threaten to make me involuntarily bulimic…