Remember when you were a kid (I guess if you lived in the Northern part of the country), and there was a big hullabaloo over a snow or ice event? Everybody raided the supermarkets, and you had visions of a snow day, and a whole day to yourself? Playing outside, maybe playing trucks inside or reading a book? And then the next day there is nothing. Not-a-fucking-thing. You suddenly had ice balls, a psychological variant on sexual frustration. It seemed as if all your hopes and dreams for your entire existence had been dashed by that bitch Mother Nature, who really must be related to your Aunt Selma somehow.
Well today is one of those days in Houston. Panties in a knot last night, I am sure people in the suburbs were cleaning the supermarkets out for ICE 2007. Of course, in the Heights, nobody cares about that stuff, they just cover the plants. My new house has many tropical plants, so SHG and I were out dutifully covering them. I call it Houston Winterizing: cover the roses and ferns at the last minute, and work until NASCAR is on again.
Tonight they promise ice. There is even a warning. Whatever. They cannot get anything right.
Anyway, I am pissy. No work-from-home for TXYANKEE today. Feh. Ice balls. Ouch.
