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Bill, of course, didn't get a holiday weekend at all. He was writing his NIH grant proposal from sun-up past sun-down every day (except actual Thanksgiving day, what with all the beer planned and all). I made sure I got something of a break though. Friday I did nothing. Well, I drove the dog out to play with some friends for a while and I took a bath. Those were my high points. A good day, Friday.
Saturday was again beautiful (near 50ยบ!), and Tuesday was the last day the city would pick up our leaf bags, so a-raking I went. There's only one tree in the backyard, but it's big. Almost 2 dozen bags big. Question: Why is it that no matter what kind of gloves you wear while raking, you always end up with blisters on your palms? Heidi and Todd came out from next door too, so we had a sort of bucket brigade of leaf-bag assembly. One person to rake into piles, one person to stuff leaves into bags, one person to schlepp full bags into the garage. In no time at all (like, 2 and a half hours), the grass was greenly free again. Things always looks so clean, right after raking. Very satisfying.
Then on Sunday, I woke up and shoveled snow. Yeah, that clean green yard didn't last very long. The weatherman warned us it was going to snow, but that usually means a dusting that melts by lunch if it sticks at all. Not this time, though. Snow meant cold cold temperatures, a stiff breeze, and a couple inches of snow over a sheet of ice. Still it has not melted away. The streets slush up during the day's traffic, then freeze solid again when the sun goes down. It has been mighty treacherous. And let me give you some advice: Stay off of campus. The dumb kids don't understand you can't walk out into the street and expect a car to stop like normal. When there's ice, cars can't stop on a dime. They can't even stop on a dollar bill. But we are safe and law-suit free so far.
So we have been hurtled into the coziness of winter. Next weekend (now that the grant is mostly done and almost submitted) we'll deck the halls, maybe make some figgy pudding, and listen for the silver bells. After all, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
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