As you may have heard, we’ve had a bit of weather lately. I loves me some snow, but this is just silly. We got about six or seven inches last Thursday, another seven (give or take) on Saturday, and maybe four on Sunday. It’s all light and fluffy powder. (Well, except for that bit of freezing rain we got Saturday night – that just made a thin crust of ice over what we’d already gotten. It was kinda like when you get one of those soft-serve ice cream cones that gets dipped in the crunchy chocolate coating, but with more dirt and dog pee.) How’s traffic, you ask? Well, in a word, I’d have to say that it’s fucked. The roads are sheets of compressed snow with various layers of ice on top. Getting around by car is difficult, at best. Going by foot is easier, yet still treacherous. I know this for a fact, since the ice weasels got me while crossing an intersection yesterday. I slipped, fell, and spent the majority of my 48th birthday in the ER of the UW Medical Center. Not because I’m severely injured or anything, I hasten to add; it’s just a fairly mild sprain which I’m compressing and elevating even as we speak. (I’m getting the hang of the crutches, but they are not my friends.) No, my extended stay was due to two things: the hospital was short-staffed, and there was no ground transportation to be had – no cabs, no busses that went anywhere near home. We were able to call a neighbor who was brave/foolhardy enough to fire up his Forester and come pick us up. If Science Girl didn’t work in another wing of the hospital, I might very well have been stranded there, since she’s the one who can remember phone numbers. Anyway, yeah. Not really what I’d had in mind for birthday fun. And now I’m trapped here in the house, held prisoner by a sea of ice and slush. Whoo. On the other hand, it's kinda pretty outside. See my pre-carnage pictures here, if you're so inclined.