Snow.  Blowing snow.  Blowing snow onto the lawn.   Snow blowing.  Into my face at -12.  Whoa. That’s a wake-me-up.

I’m alert and ready for the day.

The icy stuff we got yesterday during the day came down before the snow.  Now it’s ice beneath the snow.  Slip slidin’ away.

After this a long lecture of prints in the MIA collection, then icons from the frozen steppes of mother Russia.  Seems right.