Called it correctly
The forecast people called this one correctly. It was, indeed, a snow day. Schools and other offices left the lights off and the door locked; I know of one because when I called my eye guy to arrange for a post-op checkup, the answering machine recorded my request. They’ll listen to things tomorrow. No emergency to avert.
Here, I was up to watch the flurries start, intensify into whiteness and continue after dark. No idea about the accumulation, although the lane tractor was in and out at one point. On TV, a blizzard watch of a newish police drama, involving rookies that were much better at their job than expected. I guess that’s how TV handles things.
I slowly taking control of my new “readies”, which don’t focus exactly as I expect. Sometimes, a second run at a sentence is required. No big deal. I’m not on public display just yet (that comes in a couple of months, when our community group goes AGM and I get to read the history from a year ago. As if anyone cares, here in ’19.
One of my neighbours phoned to check on my recovery process; a nice touch, considering the number of other neighbours with larger ailments than me. Than I? One of the grammar points I never got, back in my preteen classroom apprenticeship. I did learn that a cookbook which was around the house, sixty years back, is now quite collectible. No, I didn’t memorize the recipes. One of those “there will always be a reference book on hand, in case I decide to bake squares or muffins”. Or a supermarket.
