I’m not sure what to call what’s been falling for the past several hours. I know our truck was covered with ice when I walked out to the parking lot to head home. I know that the truck was pelted with something frozen during the entire trip. And I know, thanks to The Wife, that… Read More snow. and other stuff.
I woke up in the Rocky Mountains instead of the Appalachian foothills. Seriously, it’s dumping outside, and I wish I was stuck at Seven Springs instead of writing about the weather in the newsroom. I’m sure our friend in Yellowknife is probably amused at our hysteria over a snowstorm — after all, it’s a balmy… Read More milk, bread and toilet paper.
The post from earlier this evening jogged something deep inside my brain, allowing me to complete the FOG weekend wrap-up and get it posted at the Fog Hog Blog. You know where to find it.
Ahh, the midwinter doldrums. Work is less exciting, not a whole lot of fun outside the office, and potential Uncle Crappy posts get piled up in my brain like the mounds of laundry I have to get around to doing one of these days. Last week was a little frustrating, because on Monday I had… Read More well. uh. see…
Sorry. I’ve been frozen. I’ll post more when my fingers thaw.
There were two remarkable things about watching Punxsutawney Phil’s 2007 prediction: 1) he didn’t see his shadow and therefore predicted spring’s early arrival, something he almost never does, and 2) he shrunk. For the past several years, we’ve seen a stately, majestic Phil — in other words, huge — hauled from his stump at Gobbler’s… Read More the skinny.
Uncle Crappy 