new normal

My dad called to find out if we "got snow out there."

I've been walking everywhere for the last week, but I caught a bus down from Denny this morning. The streets leading into downtown are so rutted that the front and back ends of the bus were bobbing independantly. It was like riding in a covered wagon. Also, my bus driver had a full white beard and mustache and was wearing a Santa Claus hat.

I have industrious neighbors:

Snow Day #5

Snowy walk to work, Monday a.m.:

wonderland

At the top of every steep hill there's a pile of abandoned cardboard sheets, plastic box lids, and stolen condo signs. People are sledding day and night, and they're usually willing to loan their inner tubes and woks (the woks are the best) to passersby for a quick downhill run. Half the dumpsters on Capitol Hill must be missing their lids now, as resourceful scavengers quickly discovered that they make excellent two- and three-man toboggans.

Last Thursday's snow (I have been informed) was the kind that's "good for biking" but not much is moving on two wheels right now.

Apparently my neighbors have all the snacks, whiskey, and DVDs they need. There wasn't a single footprint on these stairs when I got home.

I remain very happy about these boots:

Still!

Yesterday I was telling my coworker that I actually kind of like seeing the city shut down like this.

I grew up in Alaska; my childhood reading was To Build a Fire and Tisha and Mrs. Mike *, and you kept a down sleeping bag in the trunk of the car as soon as winter hit and were constantly drilled to keep your feet dry and always stop for stranded strangers. It wasn't just an aphorism, it was something you could feel bone-deep: if you are not vigilant, the environment will kill you.

In a more temperate climate, there just isn't the same danger. (It's possible to freeze to death here but you'd have to work at it.) So it's almost reassuring to me when a winter storm like this one gobsmacks the tenderfeet with my earliest lessons. Respect nature. We are small and fragile and no match for what it can throw at us.

And then people who didn't learn the value of caution and fear nearly drove two charter buses full of students over a twenty food drop, and my sanctimony felt a lot less fun. Jesus. My condolences to all who will spend the next weeks and months dealing with the physical and emotional fallout of a wrong turn.

* This maybe says a lot about me, but I was surprised to see Mrs. Mike reviewed as a romance. What I remembered from my pre-teen reading was frozen feet and babies dying of diphtheria and malaria and charred bodies in the wells after wildfires. Did I miss a whole bunch of smooching?

Snow!

Snow! We've got snow!

Icicles! We've got icicles!

Cold! It's freaking cold!

I've been searching Ravelry for earflap hat patterns. Will post pictures when (if) I finish one.