There wasn’t any new snow today. Instead there is fog – thick white fog that makes everything bright and hard to see. My thoughts about its beauty are tempered by my thoughts about the danger of driving in the fog. My husband was late to dinner last night, but as I stirred the food again and again I reassured myself that he was just driving slowly and nothing was wrong. When he arrived, I found out that he had in fact spun out on a patch of ice, narrowly avoided hitting a car in the opposite lane, narrowly missed a girl whose car had just completed the same process, and wound up stuck on the shoulder facing the opposite direction.
To the man driving the F-350 who helped push Josh back onto the road: thank you, thank you, thank you.
Anyhow, I’ve decided that I’ll think about how rapturously beautiful the fog is only after my husband and I are both safe and snug in our little apartment tonight.
That said, I walked to work this morning for the first time since Monday and found it pretty easy going. I noticed a number of little plants valiantly poking out of the snow and made the mistake of allowing myself to stop and take photos, making my walk a lot longer and causing a lot of drivers to wonder what on earth I was doing.
Work-in-progress for the weekend includes finishing up my final art project, a brochure about the dolls I finished a few weeks ago. I used up most of my lunchbreak messing around with the photos (which didn’t leave much time for writing), so I leave you with a preview of things to come.