I Got 99 E-Mails But A Pic Ain't One

We are in the midst of a blizzard that was not exactly forecast to the best of my knowledge. I could be in error, what with being holed up in my basement lair until 11:30 last evening due to the guests that wouldn't leave.

This morning, I could swear I heard the weatherpeople on the local channels state that some black ice or freezing drizzle might appear for the morning rush. And that there was a slight chance of flurries overnight. But what to my wondering eyes should appear at 5:00 p.m. but a rip-roarin', down-home, Hillmomban blizzard!

According to the #1 son, it started around 2:30. He took off to a basketball tournament to take yearbook pictures of what turned out to be an upset victory for #9 seeded Newmentia, who demolished the #1 seed to move on to the semi-finals.

I stepped out on the porch to try and snap a picture for posterity. That last batch of snow, the ALLEGED six to nine inches, came in the wee morning hours. That's because it was trying to hide its inadequacies, being a mere two inches of actual measurement. Just my luck that our resident photographer was absent. My old-fashioned, almost-a-Jitterbug, phone camera would have to suffice. I tried a tall picture and a wide picture. Wouldn't you know it? I handed the phone to The Pony so he could email them to myself. Now the tall one is in my inbox, but the wide one is fashionable late. How fitting that I am sitting at 99 emails. That's only because I cleaned out my inbox last night. What else was I going to do? I was trapped at my computer for HOURS! In fact, last night, I had over 600 emails. I'm a hoarder. And also a procrastinator. Now it stands at 271, but 99 are unread. And one wide photo is missing. It'll get here. Sometimes they take a while.

Speak of the devil...here it is now. I'll be right back.

Please accept my apology for the quality. I know you can't see the snowflakes pouring down. But that's not a meteor striking our dusk-to-dawn light. It's a halo caused by fat snowflakes. As you can see, the tree limbs are bearing the brunt of this stealthy storm. I'm hoping no brittle limbs collapse on an electrical wire. You can see the faint hoofprints of The Pony from his trip to gather The Egg. We've only been getting one a day. Farmer H blames the glossy-coated curs for snacking on his hen-fruit before the evening harvest. I say he needs more than circumstantial evidence.

The chicken pen and goat pen are behind those low-hanging limbs. That's a faint trail to the BARn. It's normally big enough to drive a car through. And my poor rose bush is starting to slump beside the porch. I'm glad that #1 is spending the night with a friend, and that he has already checked in to say he is under their roof.

Farmer H just called from town. So unforecast was a storm of this magnitude that he was caught unawares. He drove his regular Pacifica to work today. Rather than his 4WD Ford 250 that he just had repaired for navigating such road conditions. The one he drove Wednesday and Thursday. He thinks he can make it back to the Mansion, with the exception of the last gravel hill. If need be, I can drive down to that area and pick him up in T-Hoe to save him a half-mile hike.

Because I'm generous like that.