The beast and I just got back from tromping around in the snow. We have the most we’ve had all winter right now. It’s not a lot by the standards of my yoot in New England, but it’s enough to make walking around a little slow. Carly doesn’t really seem to care much about snow; she’s not inclined to roll around in it or anything. At most, she probably views it as something that might slow her prey down a little bit, if there were any prey to be seen.
Down next to the lake, the beach is blowing all over the place. The street is covered in blown sand, and it’s hard to tell what the big piles of stuff on the beach are: mostly sand, or mostly snow. And the lake looks frozen almost as far as you can see — I don’t think it really is, but with all the snow blowing around, it’s hard to tell. In a chilly, churny way, it’s beautiful.
I just heard about Molly Ivins’ death. I have a couple of her books, and saw her speak a couple years ago here in Chicago. She was a hellraiser in the best sense of the word, always encouraging everyone to do just that: raise hell to effect change for the better in the world. The world’s a poorer place without her.
Here’s a tribute to her from her syndicate.