There's a couple of inches of snow on the ground; the skies are quiet not but they assure me there's more snow in the offing.
It is perhaps sad that I have come to loathe even the clean, white, new-fallen snow, this its delicate white blanket, so fluffy and smooth, arouses a crawling sensation between my shoulder blades and the dull heat of remembered pain in my lower backs. I take comfort in remembering that curmudgeonly William Hazlett mused contentedly, nearly two centuries ago, On The Pleasures Of Hating, an essay recommended by his modern-day fellow-essayist Florence King. I believe a related (however distantly) concept has developed among persons serving in the military: "Embrace the suck," which is perhaps the only way to wade through the vengeful, ragged Napoleon's-retreat-from-Russia of Winter's final efforts against onrushing Time: Hate it, enjoy hating it, and keep moving; if you stop, it wins.
For my first move today, I'm making French Toast. Who's with me?
We went the cornmeal pancakes (jiffy) and non Halal sassage this morning.
ReplyDeleteWith eggs of course, I gotta keep her happy.
We had french toast last week.
THen I cleaned the driveway and cars.
Since we were in a lull, I actually had to reconsider: I shoveled first, then made brekky. I'll be shoveling again later.
ReplyDeleteShoveled out (again)to the northwest of you, and now making bread pudding with bourbon sauce. Feel like hibernating until spring arrives, but nothing would get done...
ReplyDelete