Snowmageddon/Snowpocalypse - A Rose By Any Other Name . . .

That is how our circumstance is being referred to by local columnist Petula Dvorak. We aren't in Minnesota anymore. As I understand it, six inches of snow cripples this area. Last week we got over 20 inches of snow and, as I write, we are getting another 10-15 inches. I was in the gym tonight studying on the treadmill when part of the ceiling fell in.

It's going to be a long week.


So how long do you think two people can share 500 square feet of living space before playing hide-and-go-seek sounds like a great challenging pastime? (I know - I could hide in the oven! It's nice and warm and he'll never find me!) How many days in a row can one spend looking out the window at the dog poop station without turning into a - GASP, CHOKE - cat person? How much longer before I "accidentally" confuse the gin with the bottled water? I'll let you know.


I'm trying to be creative. I practiced Irish Jigs on my recorder today. Poor Douglas. I will NOT let the closure of the gym get in the way of maintaining all the progress I have made. So tonight I exercised during a program we were watching. Doug held up his hand to block the view of my lunging and flapping my arms throughout the show. Poor Douglas. We have some pistachios left over from our gathering the other night. We could throw the shells on the kitchen floor (wood) and host Country Western night at the Rose's. Yee-haw!

I remember learning about the fish at the bottom of the ocean in science class. Some of them glow since there is no light down there - they compensate. Some have no eyes since there is nothing much to see. They supposedly lost them through evolution. Maybe it's kind of like long term atrophy, I don't know. Here's my concern. How long will it take before Doug and I start losing things that we still consider important like the ability to walk more than 12 steps in a row? When I get out of here, will I still be able to interact with others? Will I awaken in the morning with my legs sealed together like the Little Mermaid in reverse? If I ever get out of here, will my lungs reject the fresh air? Or will they remember what breathing was really like? I haven't mentioned the hallucinations have I? The carbon dioxide build up in here is THICK let me tell you. I lay in bed wide awake as Douglas slept and I swear it was snowing on him. If I ever leave these walls again, will I be able to stand the excitement? Right now taking out the trash means drawing straws - the winner gets to go to the trash room! Or will I continue living life in thought only; vicariously, so to speak, via myself.

I have taken a couple of walks through the cemetery in the thick of the blizzard. It was eerie. Friday night I walked over fresh, smooth, blowing snow. As I rounded a loop with in the cemetary, I noticed footprints in front of me. I thought nothing of it then stopped. I looked behind me. Nothing. Where had the come from? I followed them. The led to a tiny structure of some sort and circled directionless then continued on the road. I continued to follow them until the disappeared. No kidding. They just vanished. I don't mean the snow blew them away 'vanished'. They were there, deep, and then they were not. Eerie. Today I walked and more snow had fallen and drifted over the headstones making Whoville-like shapes all around. Once in a while just a name would be peeking out from the pile: "Hummer" "Small" "Whistler". The ground claims the headstones over the decades; the snow can claims them overnight.