The Weather, it is Crap. The Roads, They are Too.
Here in Chicago, where the elementals wear pinky rings and smoke stogies, it is winter, five days short of Official Winter.
It is winter, and I am tired.
Rather than waste what infinitesimal scraps of energy still remain in this poor frame, I shall repeat (or largely repeat) what I reported over in LINDA:
"It took me two hours to go 12 miles. Don't know whether it's average or mean, but the speed at which I most often travelled was 13 miles per hour. More often, I wasn't traveling. Just sitting. No ploughs, no salt, five municipalities. And I had to park more than three blocks away from home, once I got into the neighborhood. The boys fed me. I managed to clean the kitchen, sort of. I am now contemplating brushing my teeth, but I can't yet go to bed, because the bedroom drapes are being washed and dried, and I must wait to help put them up. (Long story, not interesting.)
I am tired beyond the adequate telling of it. "