Last fall I realized that I needed to go out the front door to take a picture of the sunrise and during most of the winter so far it just hasn't been worth getting cold since it's pretty overcast most days and the view doesn't have as much sky that way. It's not as picturesque with all those wires and houses. This morning when I looked out to see if our new birdbath heater was working and underwater (it was) I saw this. Sunrise! Out the patio door! With extra sky! So of course I went out to take a picture. I was even mostly dressed. Having the sun rise that much farther north means that the planet is tilting toward our end which means we'll get more direct sun, more vitamin D, more warmth. It gives me hope that spring will eventually come.
I called the city yesterday asking them to come and salt our street. Or put sand or kitty litter or something on it. With the hard packed snow from last Thursday and then Sunday's freezing rain it's a rink out there, icy and treacherous, especially along the side where I park Beverly when Durwood needs to go someplace. I had an interesting time getting from the car to the house after my errands yesterday and there was NO WAY I was going to carry a 40# bag of birdseed while trying to keep my balance on there. I'm taking the recycling to put in the work dumpster today too. I was not going to slide it out on that glacier so the garb-ologists can pick it up today, I'd never get the bin back until the spring thaw. I'm hoping that they realize how horrible it is and send another salt truck or something. I'm not kidding, you guys, it's scary.
Durwood and I watched NOVA on WI Public TV last night. It was about a group of scientists building a replica of Pharaoh's chariot and there in the middle of it was a professor from UW-Madison who had been in a writing class I took at The Clearing way back in 2004. I remember him because Hungarians are dangerously charming and also he was so interesting and passionate about building that chariot. It's a small world, isn't it?
February 13--Mesopotamia, Headdress. The golden leaves of the headdress lay on her brow gleaming in the shaft of sunlight streaming through the window at the end of the gallery. If Lt. Daniels didn't look below her chin she looked asleep. From her chin down she looked like she had been run over by a row of blades, like the disc harrows farmers towed behind their tractors, that made that kind of uniform cuts.
Oh, gross. I'll be going away now. It's a work day. It's my last work day this week. I have to stop somewhere on my way and buy a valentine for my Valentine. Toodle-oo.