It looked like a City of Loonies today – I saw several dudes walking around in shorts (well, shorts and Sorel boots – it’s a thing) and puddles in the street. And it didn’t get over 23-degrees Farenheit.
I think the deep freeze is done. Oh man, it’ll be 32 tomorrow. Can we handle the insanity?
Alright, 32 or not, I am still brain-dead from winter and could use a shot of warmth and color for the eyes. I plan on a visit to St. Paul’s Como Park Conservatory very soon. I am told by a Como Zoo specialist that I need to get over there before the stroller brigade gets there – around the noon hour, apparently. What I do know is that I don’t want to go over there when the senior party bus gets there. Geez, I feel bad saying that, and I AM PRETTY OLD and all; it’s not the tortoise slowness with which they walk or the way they gang up and block the path when you’re trying to just get through to see the tulips. It’s the perfume/cologne factor. It’s like they’ve got Dementia of the Olfactory Nerve System or something. I hope I never get this terrible affliction. It’s the ladies, usually, who drown themselves in Chanel No. 5 or Shalimar – I’m just taking a stab here at the brands – but they’ve lost all sense of the golden rule of just a tiny drop on your wrists. But when I’m in a heated greenhouse with them, it’s very intense and I need to GET OUT IMMEDIATELY, lest I suffer closed throat and shut up watery eyeballs.
THE COMO CONSERVATORY, ST. PAUL, MN
I know, I am being insensitively sensitive.
This just seemed to suit the mood today. Don’t give me guff about ravens v. crows. They both kill bunnies.
My, there’s a little bit of everything in this viddie!
Alright. Well, we have sun but it’s a balmy 11-degrees Farenheit with wind-chill factors of -1, and spring seems far away. So the theme today is WAITING. Waiting for things to happen. The fruits of my labor. Efforts to pan out. People to call me back. Proverbial seeds I have planted to sprout. I’m antsy. I got ants in my pants and I need to dance. Must take some sort of action.
Can’t dance to the Doors.
Props go to Machinist Man for taking pics. He got started with shoveling (well, technically, blowing, with the Arin’s 10-horsepower snowblower) before dawn this a.m. We only got about 8-9 inches, but it’s frozen rain underneath, and of course we still had about 2 feet still on the ground because it’s, you know, vinter in Minnesota.
Purdy though, ain’t it? Our house looks like some kind of Nordic fairy tale monster. And can you spot the doghouse in one of these pictures? Where’s Waldo?
Probably our last big whooo-ha, snow-wise, for this winter (ha! who am I kidding?) “You know, Patti, MARCH can be our snowiest month,” Machinist Man from Minnesota likes to tell me every year.
The Ides of March will be upon us soon enough. I don’t know how that relates to snow storms — I just like saying that.
There’s a backyard underneath here, somewhere.