Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Drip, drip, drop.

I woke up this morning all prepared to spend the day at home making chili, playing Guitar Hero, watching sappy Lifetime movies and never getting out of my fuzzy robe and sockies - you know, all the stuff you do when you get to stay home on the company dime - and instead, I have to come to work. It's cold and wet and dreary and icky out there, people. But (un)fortunately, not all that slick on the roads. So here I am.

I updated my WordPress to version 2.3.1 today. No major problems, except with my SideBlog widget, which decided it hated life and wouldn't go on without an update itself. Even after the update, I haven't quite tweaked it back to it's former look, but the current one is growing on me. If anything is broken, leave me a comment letting me know.

I just noticed one of the new features... an advanced formatting toolbar that looks like it will let me change all sorts of things, including font color. Nifty.

Speaking of snow days, here's a poem about two people spending some of the best days of their lives snowed in together. It reminds me of the ice storm we had here a few years ago, where we lost power for 2 days. We slept in our living room in front of the fireplace, with three layers of clothes on, and three or four blankets, and two dogs and two cats and did our best just to not shiver. We were about to give in and go to a hotel when the power was restored.

Lester Tells of Wanda and the Big Snow by Paul Zimmer

Some years back I worked a strip mine
Out near Tylersburg. One day it starts
To snow and by two we got three feet.
I says to the foreman, "I'm going home."
He says, "Ain't you stayin' till five?"
I says, "I got to see to my cows,"
Not telling how Wanda was there at the house.
By the time I make it home at four
Another foot is down and it don't quit
Until it lays another. Wanda and me
For three whole days seen no one else.
We tunneled the drifts and slid
Right over the barbed wire, laughing
At how our heartbeats melt the snow.
After a time the food was gone and I thought
I'd butcher a cow, but then it's cleared
And the moon come up as sweet as an apple.
Next morning the ploughs got through. It made us sad.
It don't snow like that no more. Too bad.

1 comment:

  1. I stayed up until 1 AM on Monday drinking and being merry (under the assumption the university would close) ... damn the man!