sunny snowy sunday

i'll upload some pictures of this strange whiteness that covers rooftops and cars and makes this look like a little town in the far north, but for now: just believe me when i say it snowed here in nashville. this morning i shoveled a few inches of it off my car. out there in the sunshine it was actually quite an exhilerating experience. i have a really cool snow scraper, and i have to give that it probably significantly added to the level of enjoyment. i really believe that the right tool can make all the difference in the world. my very limited experience in cooking, haircutting, and minor surgery only confirms this.

a now, without segway of any kind;

Snow Day (Billy Collins)

Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,

its white flag waving over everything,

the landscape vanished,

not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness,

and beyond these windows



the government buildings smothered,

schools and libraries buried, the post office lost

under the noiseless drift,

the paths of trains softly blocked,

the world fallen under this falling.



In a while I will put on some boots

and step out like someone walking in water,

and the dog will porpoise through the drifts,

and I will shake a laden branch,

sending a cold shower down on us both.



But for now I am a willing prisoner in this house,

a sympathizer with the anarchic cause of snow.

I will make a pot of tea

and listen to the plastic radio on the counter,

as glad as anyone to hear the news



that the Kiddie Corner School is closed,

the Ding-Dong School, closed,

the All Aboard Children's School, closed,

the Hi-Ho Nursery School, closed,

along with -- some will be delighted to hear --



the Toadstool School, the Little School,

Little Sparrows Nursery School,

Little Stars Pre-School, Peas-and-Carrots Day School,

the Tom Thumb Child Center, all closed,

and -- clap your hands -- the Peanuts Play School.



So this is where the children hide all day,

These are the nests where they letter and draw,

where they put on their bright miniature jackets,

all darting and climbing and sliding,

all but the few girls whispering by the fence.



And now I am listening hard

in the grandiose silence of the snow,

trying to hear what those three girls are plotting,

what riot is afoot,

which small queen is about to be brought down.