Surprising Subtlety

Subtlety isn't something you expect in a commercial product. Certainly not a product with such flamboyant packaging as Hot Hands hand warmers, pictured here. But I tried this product today for the first time and found it intriguingly subtle yet effective.

Here's what happened. I had an errand I wanted to run – a visit to the drive-through ATM at my bank, about a mile from my apartment. Even though it had snowed earlier in the day and I knew it was going to be cold, I decided I wanted to go on foot because I'd been cooped up in my apartment without a break for a couple days, and I desperately needed fresh air, sunshine and a little exercise. So I put on two jackets (a hoodie and a relatively light winter coat) and a knitted cap but, for some reason, decided I didn't need gloves. I guess I trusted my pockets to keep my hands warm. And off I went.

On the way to the bank, I had a tail wind pushing me along. Even so, 22 degrees plus wind made for an uncomfortably cool walk. I put up the hood of my hoodie and kept my fists jammed in my pockets, but even so, I was feeling pretty miserable (and stupid) when I got to the ATM. I took out $40, braced myself, and turned into the wind for the homeward stretch.

Oh, was it cold! It was face-hurtingly cold. Part of the way home, I darted into Walgreens with little more in mind than to blow time in a heated place. While I was there, I spotted a rack of stocking caps and wondered aloud if the store carried mittens; but they did not. Then I spotted a clearance display of these hand warmers, and I decided to give them a try.

What comes out of the package looks rather like a tea bag – kind of a woven paper sachet full of something that feels like really fine gravel or maybe crumbled up charcoal. Following the directions, I gave each pouch a good shake, then wrapped my fists around them and stuck them in my pockets and walked the rest of the way home. And you know what? Even though I had the wind blowing right at me, the only discomfort I felt was an increasingly urgent desire to blow my nose.

It was actually pretty weird. I expected those hand warmers almost to burn my hands, to become uncomfortably hot as I walked with fists in pockets. But they didn't. In fact, I didn't even notice any particular sensation of warmth. For the first block or so, I even wondered if the hand warmers were working. But then I realized that even though my hands didn't exactly feel warm, they didn't feel cold either. And that was astonishing, under the circumstances.

My hands weren't numb. Nor were they in pain from the wind chill biting through the fabric of my light winter coat. Even with a bit of wrist exposed between sleeve and pocket, I feared no evil. I expected toasty warmth and slightly dreaded becoming a little overheated, but was surprised to feel neither. Even more surprising of this little bundle of chemicals branded with images of flames and glowing heat, success was mingled with subtlety.

Did I wash my hands when I got home? You betcha. I don't know what they put in those things, but I didn't want to taste it at dinner.

Today's Adventures in a Winter Wonderland

I got up early yesterday morning to see whether the predicted foot or so of snow had indeed blanketed the world, or at least my little corner of it. I saw a dusting on the ground and little to no snow actually falling. I checked the forecast and it persisted in predicting a winter disaster. After continuing to get ready to drive 50+ miles to my home church, I looked out again and the snow was pelting down, at least an inch having accumulated in under half an hour. I conferred with my pastor, and by the time he decided to cancel services for that morning, several inches lay outside and more was still falling.

It fell until sometime in the late afternoon or early evening. Then the temperatures did likewise. I woke up this morning to an email from my supervisor at work, advising me to shuffle my work plans for the week and stay home for today. A special Epiphany service planned for this evening also went under the snow plow. Suddenly I had nothing to do with my day except post a piece of business-related mail, wait for mail delivery, and try to make sure my car was free of snow and ready to roll for tomorrow.

FIT THE FIRST. 6:00 a.m.
For my first adventure, I went out to ask the guys running snowblowers around the apartment complex whether they might kindly blow my car free of the huge pile of snow blocking it in from behind. They said no, but mentioned that a truck was expected at any time to plow everyone clear.

FIT THE SECOND. 6:30 a.m.
I went out again to ask the guys shoveling the front stoops whether they would either shovel behind my car or let me borrow a shovel. No on both counts. They also predicted the arrival of a truck to clear the lot. At this writing, no such truck has materialized.

FIT THE THIRD. 9-ish a.m.
After hours of listening to the sound of snowblowers blowing and shovels shoveling, I went out and found everything looking about the same as at 6:30, only with more daylight on it and no maintenance guys in sight. I meant to walk the four blocks to the post office to buy postage for an outgoiing piece of mail, but I was also thinking about stopping by the apartment complex's management office to request help getting my car dug out. Instead, I got side-tracked by a neighbor whose car was stuck in the middle of the street. I tried to help him and a security officer push it free. We gave up when the officer decided to call maintenance, and I went home without passing the post office, because my cold-weather gear was soaked in ice-cold water.

FIT THE FOURTH, 10-ish a.m.
Wearing a different coat (one whose collar flipped up to cover most of my face), a different pair of shoes, a different pair of gloves, and two (2) winter hats, I went out again to visit the post office. Along the way I stopped at the management office and asked them to put in a maintenance request to plow my car clear. Request submitted, I went home again without going to the post office, because the wind was blowing straight through my hats, coat & gloves as though they weren't there. I didn't think I would survive the walk to the post office and back!

FIT THE FIFTH, sometime around noon
I finally made it to the post office, wearing two pairs of gloves, a scarf, both hats, and my best coat. I had to carry my glasses in my pocket because they frosted over.

FIT THE SIXTH, between noon and 1 p.m.
After getting unbundled at home, I bundled up again (only with a different scarf) and went by maintenance in person to ask for a the loan of a shovel. One of the guys let me borrow an orange plastic hand-plow for a while. I worked up a good sweat before maintenance guy came along and demanded his shovel back. In a few minutes I had almost finished clearing out the 2 cubic meters (+/-) of snow behind my car that, in some 19 hours since it stopped falling, still hadn't been touched by snow removal equipment, other than one pass with a plow a good car's length from the rear bumper. I still couldn't get at my car from either side without getting wet up to my knees, and the pile of snow in front of it (thanks to this morning's snow blowers) is as high as I can step over. But there was progress, at least.

Before going back inside, I went back to maintenance and asked them nicely to please finish up around my car (and the lot in general) so that I can go to work tomorrow. They looked like they had the manpower and equipment to have cleared every walkway and street in the complex several times over by now, but they mostly seemed to be taking an inventory of their shovels or a head-count of their personnel while the snow-blowers idled loudly, exactly where they had been idling when I borrowed the shovel.

I now have two hats, two scarves, and four gloves laid out to dry in front of a heating vent; two pairs of soaking wet socks on the laundry pile; and 2 pairs of shoes that will probably smell like salt-cured, washed-rind, stinky feet cheese for the rest of their service life. AND... if I pull my car out of its space, I will never again find a place to park in this neighborhood until the snow melts of itself. So I'm in no rush to give it a spin before tomorrow morning. I just hope it doesn't get plowed in again.

Top Ten Reasons Fall Is Good

10. The leaves change color, fall from the trees, and drift into heaps that you can lose a child in. For a minute, anyway.

9. The melancholy pleasure of a rainy day, the sweet earthy smell of moldering leaves, and the subdued, gaslight quality of a sun that rises late and sets early.

8. The perfection of a blue-sky, sunny day when the high temperature is around 65° F, give or take 5 degrees, when a sweater or windbreaker gives just enough warmth but not too much.

7. The happy necessity of a daily cup of rich, dark, hot chocolate.

6. The sudden prevalence of pumpkins set out as decorations and baked into pies and other desserts. (Roasted pumpkin seeds are also a nice fall treat, by the way.)

5. The nighttime luxury of snuggling down under a heavy quilt or comforter, without fear of overheating.

4. Your favorite cat's tendency to snuggle down with you, in an especially well-behaved way, all night long.

3. The clarity that the air has when it is neither too damp nor too dry, too hot nor too cold.

2. The brief, exquisitely peaceful pause between the rumble of air conditioning and the rattle and clank of central heating.

1. The realization that, just for once, the climate is even nicer outside than inside...

Bed Warmer

As my city is buried deeper and deeper under ice, sleet, and snow, I find my thoughts turning towards one question: How to stay warm?

This is a particular problem in my present apartment, where the newish vinyl windows are so badly insulated that the vertical blinds rattle when the wind gusts. There have been times when I could feel a cold draft through the tight-shut windows, even while standing several feet away. The doors aren't tightly sealed, either, but it's the windows that really kill me.

I miss my old apartment, with its elderly metal-framed windows and the over-abundant heat that rose up from the basement. I remember having to crack a window open sometimes to let out excess heat, even on a cold winter day. Now for warmth I depend on my own apartment's central heating, which at full blast doesn't quite take the chill off the air on windy days like this. Back around Christmas, I suffered through a few nights when, even curled up with a pile of quilts tucked in all around me, my body heat couldn't keep up with the icy draft that somehow stabbed its way into my blanket cocoon.

So I told my father today while we were on the phone, comparing notes about the grandmother storm now blanketing our area. I was waxing nostalgic about hot water bottles, electric blankets, and those pans of hot stones people used to transfer from the fireplace to the bottom of their bedclothes. That's when my father told me about a simple type of bedwarmer one of his ex-parishioners had made for him, something anybody with a little needle-and-thread know-how could make at home, and which could very quickly, simply, and safely warm up your bed on a cold winter's night.

Start with a cloth pouch. You can make one yourself out of your choice of fabric, or you can use a pillowcase or slip-cover of some kind. Fill the bag with 2 to 4 pounds of dried beans, or (if you live near a farm supply store) feed corn, making sure to discard any plastic wrappings. Sew the bag shut.

When you want to warm up your bed, pop this bag of beans or corn into the microwave and heat it for a couple of minutes. (You may have to put up with a certain smell when you do this.) Carefully wrap the bag in a towel and/or a second pillowcase to avoid burning yourself, and stick the bundle under the covers of your bed. A few minutes later, you should be able to get into a nice, toasty-warm bed. Push the bed-warming bundle toward the foot of your bed and it will heat your feet for a while, too.

Here's a crafty website that gives a fully illustrated explanation of how to make one of these bed-warmers from scratch. I think they would make a great gift. Really. I could use one right now!

Ice Day Bachelor Chow

Today I had the day off due to the effects of an ice-storm that hit last night during my church's Advent midweek service. When I got to church, the ground was dry. When I left, I could scarcely walk down the sidewalk because it was so slippery.

This morning, the icy conditions forbade any thought of driving the twisty, turny country roads to where I work. I thought things might be better in my city neighborhood, but when I tried to take a walk I almost got killed, slipping on glare ice on a section of sidewalk that sloped down toward the street where heavy traffic was whizzing by. By the grace of God, I did not skate into traffic. I didn't even fall down, though I have a record of diving under a (thank God) parked bus in conditions like these.

So it was a cold, stay-at-home kind of day. I ransacked my cupboard for some comfort food, preferably of the zesty persuasion. This is what I came up with.

SHELLS, PEAS & ZING
Start by boiling a couple cups of water. Add the shell pasta from a package of Velveeta Shells & Cheese; also add the packet of cheese sauce (still sealed!), and bring the water back to a boil. After a few miinutes, remove the cheese packet & set it aside to cool; it will still be very warm and soft when you need it to be.

Meanwhile, empty a bag of frozen peas into a ceramic dish, add a couple tablespoons of water, and microwave (covered) at high power for 6 to 8 minutes. Strain the water out of the noodles when they are done (which is best determined by picking one out with a fork from time to time and eating it, until they reach the desired tenderness). Combine the noodles, cheese, and peas with the contents of a can of Hormel "No Beans" Chili and a drained can of Rotel. This makes about four large servings, which for a fat guy like me accounts for lunch and dinner.

Another Blue Day

For me, a "blue day" is usually good.

Today is such a day, a day when the air is right around the temperature of my blood. It's a day when the sky is so clean and bright that when you rub your thumb against it, it squeaks. It's a day when each individual leaf and blade of grass stands out in dramatic relief, as though the joy of life flowing through every living thing causes it to fluoresce in broad sunlight. The buildings look cleaner than they are, their edges sharp against the sky. The birds are gossiping. The cicadas are singing. A breeze is blowing. What am I doing indoors? I'm going out for a walk. See you later!

UPDATE: It was a wonderful walk. The sky is still squeaky-clean. I saw some cicadas on the wing, lumbering along like creatures almost too heavily built to fly. Most of the people on foot were younger, fitter, and much nicer to look at than I. At the farthest reach of my walk, I cooled off with a Dairy Queen treat (an old-fashioned ice cream soda, raspberry flavor--and though few know of it, the best thing DQ makes). On the way home I picked up four tall cans of Arizona tea for 50 cents each, thanks to a Walgreen's in-store coupon. And now I am nestled in the bosom of my cats, drinking an Arnold Palmer Lite Half & Half (half lemonade, half iced tea) and eying a sunny spot on the couch, where I might still get in a good hour of reading. It's one of those days when being alive feels good!

More Springummies

Here are some more cheapo snaps that I took, using a couple of different disposable cameras, during a very long walk on Sunday, April 11. I spotted these lovely sights while outward bound around 1-2 p.m., stopped at Walgreens and grabbed a camera, and hurried home in hopes of cathing the sights I had seen. Unfortunately, by then the light had changed, and what had been perfectly lit on the way out was now either in shadow or lit at a harsh angle on the way in. Alas.

But with a bit of imagination, you may be able to glimpse the gorgeousness that made me feel like floating away on a bubble of happiness -- all a part of a remarkable stretch of perfect, clear-blue-sky, warm, sunny weather around St. Louis in the past couple of weeks.

To start with, here is some yard art I spotted on a residential street in "historic Dogtown."

These characters live in the same yard. I marvel at their verisimilitude. OK, I just wish I could be so creative with my junk!

Mining the depths of my taxonomic knowledge, I believe this is the, er, Watchamacallit. Thought it was nice, though.

OK now... tulips, right?

Are you sure?

Why did I think this shot was worth saving? Because that one flower kept bravely and beautifully blooming, even after the rest of the bed got scorched by the sun. Everybody loves a survivor!

I didn't exactly think this was attractive. I simply thought it was interesting, in a public-nuisance kind of way.

Here's the public-nuisance part.

These red... thingies... grow in a greenway in the center of South Hampton Ave. Lots of them. And even more white thingies, all smelling quite good. I didn't have enough film to do them justice, and by now they probably aren't in such good shape. But on April 11, that median looked awesome!

This lawn near my apartment is turning purple. Can anyone tell me why? Is this bird seed run wild? Or would someone plant something like this on purpose?

Here's more of the purple living lawn ornament, from another part of the same yard. Again, the light was better when I didn't have a camera, and this is as good as it got when I did, but hopefully someone can still identify this. Come on, people! Help me out here!

Here is the furry tree outside my front window. I thin it looks pretty cool, except there is something disturbingly fungal about the way the flowers grow all the way up the limbs. Or maybe lichen-like?

More purple furry stuff.

These trees were in bloom in front of some town houses in a quiet neighborhood last Sunday. I thought it looked pretty nice. I think it might have been one of those trees whose flowers smell like Grape Nehi. That was a perfect day for catching that scent on the breeze.

Those same townhouses were fronted by several of these trees. I thought they had an impressive quality to them, combining light- and dark-colored thingummies on the same branch.

Here, for sure, is a Grape Nehi Tree, situated across the street from a local hospital. I think they should take cuttings up to the patients. It would sure cheer them up!

More Grape Nehi blossoms. Boy, do I regret losing the best light on these! They really are as nice to look at as they are to smell. In St. Louis, there is a certain time of year - like, this week - when those flowers pull heroic duty combating the odor of air pollution. Thank God for them!

Finally, shot from a bridge where Hampton Ave. passes over a railroad, a drainage ditch, and Manchester Rd., I was moved to record this beautiful piece of graffiti off the side of a warehouse. It's clear that some people can make real art with spray paint. I don't know what it means, but I like it.

Feast for the Nose

Thank you, God, for the magnolias in bloom in St. Louis! Their beauty strikes the eye and nose in equal measure. Their otherwise almost naked branches are heavily laden with plump, pale blossoms that seem too soft and innocent to last. And their sweet perfume fills the air with a sweetness that makes you forget about engine exhaust and grease-stained pavement. Smaller, neater shrubs nearby may shine forth with more brightly hued and tightly arranged blossoms at this time, and even their scent adds to the loveliness of late March in the green places of the city; but today I rejoice most of all in the magnolia and its wild, loose, generous profusion.

I wish a picture could show how wonderful this flower smells. Actually, in a way, it does. It smells just like it looks. Use your imagination!

Perfect Day

Yesterday was a perfect day for a long walk. It was, to begin with, a Saturday -- abounding with unstructured time. More importantly, it was a bright, sunny day with clear blue skies, the exact shade that never fails to lift my spirits. The only drawback was that it was 6 degrees Fahrenheit. In St. Louis terms, that's known as "bitterly cold."

Nothing daunted, I practiced my dressing-in-layers routine, learned during my 12 years living in Minnesota. I mean, I just couldn't stay indoors on a day like that, no matter how badly I wanted to read A Wizard of Mars by Diane Duane. I took the book with me. I carried it for 8 miles while wearing sweat pants over slacks, a polo sweater over a T-shirt, a well-insulated winter coat with the hood up, a St. Louis Rams scarf, snug gloves, and a knit cap with ear flaps. Some of the time I also wore earmuffs. It was that cold.

Heading north on Hampton Ave., and then west on Clayton, I was only uncomfortably cold in the part of my face around my nose and mouth. Coming back after dark, the cold started to get to my fingers and thumbs; but steam from my breath kept my face toasty warm. I had to tighten the VelCro straps around the cuffs of my coat sleeves to keep the heat in. Now and then I pulled my scarf up so I could breathe through it, to give my lips a chance to thaw out.

It was a bit difficult to see, because my glasses frequently fogged up; the condensation from my breath all but froze into solid frost. Without my glasses, I was only a little better off than squinting through half-frozen fog. I was a little worried about being poked in the eye by tree branches overhanging the sidewalk. This actually happened once, only while I was wearing the glasses! I tripped on a couple of crooked slabs of concrete. I had to negotiate two or three patches of ice with great care.

In spite of these mild annoyances, it was a good walk. The hills along the route made for a reasonable aerobic workout. I can't decide whether I preferred the busy traffic on Hampton, or the peace and quiet along much of Clayton. The route gave a mixture of pleasures. And at the far end of it, at a St. Louis Bread Co. a block or two east of Big Bend, I took refreshment in the form of hot cream-of-tomato soup served in a bowl made of sourdough bread, with an apple on the side. I can't recommend that pick-me-up in strong enough terms. Plus, the Bread Co. is a good place to blow time while you wait for a show. I had a book with me, didn't I?

The movie I watched was It's Complicated, at the AMC cinema across the street. It's the latest romantic comedy starring Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin as a divorced couple who have an affair while he's married to "the other woman" (Lake Bell) and she is getting involved with her architect (Steve Martin). Both Streep and Baldwin do good comedy, but as a serious actor he just isn't in her league. Even Steve Martin showed more acting ability. And the best laughs went to John Krasinski of "The Office," playing Streep's son-in-law-to-be, especially in the scene where he catches the ex-couple sneaking into a hotel together and has to prevent his fiancee from finding out. Rita Wilson and Mary Kay Place get in a few cute scenes as a couple of Streep's girlfriends, the three youngsters playing Baldwin and Streep's kids go through an emotional wringer and manage to make it look cute, but it's the food that proves to be Streep's most eye-appealing costar. They've worked well together before (remember Julie & Julia?).

So it was late-ish when I got home. I was tired enough to get a good night's sleep. And believe it or not, I didn't suffer. No twisted ankle this time. Blisters on the balls of my feet, perhaps. But no frostbite, hypothermia, or muscle cramps. It was a good walk. And a good day for it.

White Xmas

This year, virtually everywhere has been hit by severe winter weather. The west coast. The east coast. The Rockies. The upper midwest. Europe. You name it. But the St. Louis area has been miraculously spared.

I don't know who's been dreaming of a white Christmas in St. Louis, but they got one under the wire. Today was the first day this winter I have had to brush snow off my car. I've only had to scrape frost off the windshield a couple of times. It's been a pretty mild winter. Even during the past couple of days, while many of the states surrounding Missouri have been buried in feet of snow, it only rained last night. It was still raining when I got to church this morning. It wasn't until I came out of church, after our festive Christmas service, that I saw snow in the city.

OK, that's good. It can stop snowing now. We've had our White Christmas already. I've even taken advantage of the empty parking lots at a couple of stores that are closed for the holiday, to whip a few $@%##ies for old times' sake. I've done my penance as a 12-year resident of Minnesota. I'm willing to accept, at a MAXIMUM, a dusting on Christmas day, just to make it nicer to spend the holiday at home. I move that the snow stop now. Any body care to bring it to a vote?

Another Week to Sniff

Since Saturday night, the air around my apartment building has smelled lovely. Once again, something (I don't know what) is in bloom and saturating the air with its fragrance. It's as if a tanker full of Grape Nehi tipped over and spilled its contents upwind of my neighborhood. If someone were to bottle the flavor suggested by this scent, it would make a terrific flavor of punch. My, does it lift one's mood!

A Night to Sniff

It's a gorgeous night in St. Louis. Not too warm, not too cool; just a bit of a breeze; and the air is filled with a beautiful scent. Some widespread tree or shrub must be in bloom, its floral perfume approaching peak production. It's a perfect moment. Do have a sniff while it lasts, and rejoice! Spring is here, God is good, and tax day is drawing to a close!

Saved by Junk

This morning I found my car completely iced over. I had expected it to be covered with snow, but not ice. I couldn't open the driver's side door, so firmly frozen shut was it. What saved me from being late for work? A malfunctioning seatbelt.

For months - years, even - I've been cursing the piece-of-junk driver's-side seatbelt that doesn't fully retract when I unbuckle it. All too often, I have come back to my car to find a length of strap dangling out the bottom of the locked door.

Today, this irritating aspect of owning an aging vehicle came to my rescue. I managed to get the door open by lifting the handle and pulling firmly on the belt. So I guess even the crappy things in life can become occasions for gratitude.

Snow in St. Louis

Yesterday morning, when I left my apartment around 6:40 to go to church, I spotted snow on the ground. It was only a thin layer of the wet, sticky, next-thing-to-rain type of snow, but it was the first serious sign that winter is coming to St. Louis apart from a hard frost about a week earlier. By the time I got to church, however, the snow was already gone.

Today, as it approaches midday, last night's snow is still visible on the lawns, rooftops, and tops of parked cars. It's the same type of stuff as the day before, only more of it; and it's still snowing, or at least sleeting. Having acquired my taste in winter from Minnesota (albeit now with a touch of Arizona in me, too) I can't help but be pleased with this progress. We may have a white Christmas yet!

Tiling Fool

I was a tiling fool today. Actually, other people did the tiling as such. I just mixed the mortar, cleaned tools, and sprayed water on the circular saw while someone else cut tiles to fit around the edges of the room. It wasn't my house anyway.

It was a perfect day for it. Beautiful blue, sunshiny sky with no mark on it but a few jet trails; cool, gentle breeze; low humidity, a rare gift in these parts. We had a fairly well-coordinated team too. We covered a lot of floor with tile in only 4 or 5 hours.

But I will admit that my body is in shreds right now. The first thing I needed was hand lotion, because even with latex gloves on, my skin was raw. A little bit later, the muscle pain set in - mostly in my hands. It's amazing how much elbow grease it takes to mix mortar, and when so much of that elbow grease migrates to your palms, you can end up griping where you would rather be gripping.

During the drive home the cough started. In pouring several sacks of powdered mortar into a large paint bucket, I created some prodigious clouds of dust. Inevitably, I inhaled enough pre-mix mortar to glue most of my bronchial passages shut. I am still coughing it up. Finally, my feet are kinda killing me too. I wasn't wearing particularly supportive footwear; and after my socks and boat-shoes got soaked, I wasn't wearing any footwear at all. So they're a bit achy and chapped too.

But all these boo-hoos have their compensation. The physical labor was a nice break from ho-hum desk work. My boss served me cold beer in the bottle - not once, but twice - and the one with the label (that wasn't somebody's remarkably successful home-brew) was a very nice "Honey Porter" by Sam Adams. Dinner followed the cessation of productivity, an enjoyable and sociable meal on a deck with the most scenic view of the Missouri River money can buy. The lotion, which I can still smell, had hemp in it (so, for all you know, I could be high right now). I took pride in my work, and the exercise didn't hurt. And after tomorrow's toils I have an interesting weekend to look forward to - more on that next week, perhaps.

Quake No. 2

Just now, at 10:15 a.m. by my clock, St. Louis experienced another earthquake. It hit while I was sitting at my computer desk, and it was about the same strength as what I felt earlier this morning. I felt and heard the building shaking around me, like the angles of floor to walls were shifting. Again, I heard rattling closet doors and vibrating clock chimes; the vertical blinds clattered; and the ductwork, if not other structural elements of the building itself, shook audibly.

I witnessed most of this from the heavily-built doorway between living room and hallway. One of my cats, meanwhile, hopped on the front windowsill and watched what was going on outside. With the blinds closed, I envied his view.

Power was not interrupted. Again, I am not aware of any local damage taking place. I'm starting to wonder, though, whether I shouldn't turn off the gas. I suppose I'll just keep an ear out for what the public is being advised to do, and leave the rest in God's hands. If these disturbances continue and, God forbid, intensify, any or all of my utilities could become a problem, and not just the gas. So for now, I'm going to enjoy the privilege of cooking with gas and the excitement of finding out what happens as it happens.

Quake This Morning

So there was an earthquake this morning. Wow. In the Midwest. Double wow.

It awakened me at 4:38 a.m., according to the clock on my dresser. I believe I could feel the bed shaking. I immediately got out of bed (conscious of the four large bookcases in tipping-range of it) and stood in the doorway, listening to the closet doors rattle and the chimes in the grandfather clock play by themselves. The shaking lasted for a couple minutes, fluctuating in intensity (the clock chimes rang only at the "peaks" of the wave).

It didn't feel particularly severe. Nothing broke, nothing fell over. The water, power, and gas were still on when it was over. I'm not sure I could even feel anything from my perch in the bedroom doorway. But it was hard to get back to sleep afterward.

I didn't keep myself awake by thinking about the fact that a major fault runs under Missouri, and experts have been predicting a severe quake for some time. I didn't particularly worry that my cats were at large in the apartment and I couldn't do anything about it. I only briefly considered the likelihood of additional quakes following the first one, etc. Most of all, I avoided thoughts of how I would get out of the apartment if it ever came to standing in the doorway or death. So instead, I kept myself awake with the thought that I'd better improve my vault-out-of-bed time if I want to avoid waking up in A Mangle Made of Books.

Winter Does Its Worst

Today St. Louis is getting buried under yet another winter snowstorm. We seem to have had far more severe weather than usual this winter. Reckoning by road conditions, this may be the worst so far.

It was hard to judge whether it was going to be safe to go to work or not, with conflicting forecasts of anywhere between two and nine inches of snow accumulation. But no one had called me from work to say, "Stay put until we know more." So I assumed the consensus was that we should go about business as usual.

I drove to work between 5:20 and 6:45 a.m. I expected to arrive at 6:30, but falling and accumulating snow were already making an impact and I started to realize that I might have been better off not going to work at all. When I showed up, the boss said he was surprised to see me.

By 8:20, the snow had really started to boogie on down. My boss said it was time to decide whether to hit the road or stay overnight. I decided to hit the road.

I took it extra careful. With my 5-speed manual transmission providing a helpful layer of control ("engine braking") I managed to keep my speed down to where I could get up and down hills and around curves without losing control - except three times: twice I was able to pull myself out of a skid, and once I ran off the road but was able to drive right back onto it without stopping.

The weirdest part of the trip was driving east on I-64, where it didn't seem to have snowed at all. Nothing was on the ground, little to nothing was falling - I was starting to feel guilty about leaving work early when I took the exit onto southbound I-270 and immediately drove into dangerous road conditions, with traffic crawling along a snow-choked highway where, even at 12 mph, I went into a skid at one point.

I took the I-44 exit and got on Watson Rd., and drove that all the way into the city. Conditions deteriorated, sometimes with alarming rapidity, as I oozed along in second gear, blessing the angels of God for ensuring that most of the lights were green, because when I did have to stop it was hard to get going again. With a clutch, in these conditions, I often had to choose between spinning my tires and stalling the engine. I erred on the side of spinning the tires, which meant I eventually got going - but slowly. I drove with my flashers on, stayed in the ruts of previous cars - until I could no longer see them - and kept the heat cranked up to the max, the fans blowing full-blast on the windshield, and the rear window on defrost.

For much of the trip, especially the I-270 leg, I could only see through a small patch of my windshield (requiring me to bend over sideways as I drove) because my wipers were too clogged with ice to clean the glass effectively. I learned that turning the heat down, even when I began to swelter, made this worse; the maximum heat helped thaw the wiper blades so that they aided visibility. When conditions worsened so that even this didn't work, I cranked my wipers up to their highest speed and let them rub irritatingly against the dry windshield - at least, what little of the blades actually made contact with the glass. I guessed, correctly, that the friction would heat up the wiper blades a little more, prolonging my ability to drive safely as the weather worsened.

As I passed the city office of the company where I work, visibility was below one block. I toyed with the idea of pulling off the street and stopping at the office, either to crash there for the night or, perhaps, to go the rest of the way on foot. I decided that I might have a hard time parking, and that walking would be no safer than driving. So with what felt like desperate courage at the time, I kept going into a neighborhood where I almost couldn't see the street, or tell what lane I was in, or make out what color the next traffic signal was. My last left turn was tricky; I nearly got hung up, spinning my wheels while the driver behind me helpfully blew his horn.

I cussed out several trucks that drove by with snow plows attached, their blades lifted clear of the snow. I finally reached home where over an inch of snow had accumulated (with no signs of being cleared), and more snow was falling hard. By that time I felt silly about my earlier feelings of guilt over leaving work. The fact is, I risked my life going to work at all today, and risked it again driving home - and the risk I took driving the last two miles past the city office was nearly equal to the risk I had run up to that point. I thank God for granting me a safe homecoming; I don't know how else I could have made it. And what was it all for? Over three hours of driving, compared to less than two hours at work!

While I was blogging this, someone called me from the city office - someone who has to commute as far as I do, but in the opposite direction - to ask whether she should leave work early. I had to frankly advise her not to leave at all. If things continue to worsen at the rate they did during my drive home, she might not make it. She was determined to get home tonight, so I said the earlier the better - but having seen what the roads are like, I'll be praying for her.

Fun with Forces of Nature

Today I happened to be at home during the day, and during a nap scheduled from 1:30 to 2:30, I was awakened at exactly 2:00 by a phenomenon I have often witnessed with awe. Even with the blinds drawn and my eyes shut, I was able to observe the arrival of a strong cold front, complete with violent winds. Trees creaked; dry leaves scuttled along the ground; the windows shook in their frames; the air itself took on a tone color, the pitch rising and falling as the air velocity fluctuated. It was very impressive, and at this writing (5:30 St. Louis time) it is still blowing like that, on and off.

Predictably, the cold front brought more than just high winds. At lunchtime I walked across the street to a restaurant in balmy, spring-like weather, though the sky did threaten rain. By 3:30, when I walked into the clinic for a doctor's appointment (don't ask), the air was stinging my face with sleet. And moments ago, as I came away from the pharmacy where I picked up my meds, it was officially snowing and the temperature had crossed into "bitterly cold" territory, taking the wind chill factor into account.

All in all, it has been an interesting day to be sick at home. When weather occurrences like this happen while I'm at work, I sometimes don't notice - except to be startled by the change at the end of the day.

Seeing a front coming from a distance can be just as awesome as hearing it hit while huddled under the covers with two concerned cats. It can look like the sky has been divided in two along a straight edge, with daylight on one side and a stormy night on the other - like this picture.

Tornadoey Weather

From my desk at work, I have a beautiful view overlooking a wide stretch of the Missouri River, and virtually no buildings are "in the frame." It's often a breathtaking sight, but today my breath caught in a different way. I looked out the window and saw...nothing. The river was gone.

It was raining that hard. The only thing visible beyond the covered patio that leads into my office were the trunks of a couple of trees that stand within a few yards of the building. And they were only faint shadows in the pistachio-green blur of furious rain, hail, and wind.

I also heard tornado sirens. On turning on a radio I found out that my county was under a tornado warning. A child in another part of Missouri was killed by a tornado today. Meanwhile, where my Mom lives in Nebraska, they had a blizzard. Good times.

The weather has been odd the last few days. Yesterday when I went to work it was just above freezing, and pouring with rain. By the time I went home it was about 70 degrees and mostly sunny. This morning I headed to work in humid, 60+ weather and came home in a stiff, 40-degree wind. The weather can't seem to settle on one thing; now they say there's a chance of snow tonight!

All the same, I felt like celebrating something...so I went to Sweet Tomatoes, a salad bar restaurant that also serves hot soups and warm focaccia. I would eat there more often if I knew what was good for me. But then, to make sure all the roughage doesn't go to my brain (ha - I know what you're going to say to that), I also stopped at Ted Drewes and ordered a small concrete. By which I mean a 12-oz. cup overflowing with blended frozen custard and the topping of my choice. If you come to St. Louis, be sure to stop there and have a Cardinal Sin (sour cherry and hot fudge). It's an almost spiritual experience.