Friday 12th February 2010 - You Call this Snow?

           We'd been promised snow overnight, but by breakfast there was none.  This is more like the weather forecasts I'm used to, where the infamous butterfly wing in Venezuela moves the weather where it will.  Anyway, by 9.30, it had started to snow lightly.  The roads were too warm for it to lie, but it got a little heavier and went on for some hours.

           The Library decided to close at one o'clock, grown-up ladies running about like Chicken Licken, as thought the sky was falling on them (which, I suppose, in a way, they thought it was).  Of course, there are no stacks of road salt here, why would there be, and no equipment to spread it anyway.  So everyone just has to go home and have fun.

           From the sports news later, it does seem as though there is more snow here than there at the Winter Olympics in Vancouver.  By teatime, it is settled where the ground is well-drained, and looking quite picturesque.

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I couldn't resist that particular scene, since it seemed to embody the attitude of most Alabamians.  The sign is one of those freeway signs (you can just see the freeway exit signs in the trees) and is a medical organisation touting for addict business.

 

          Later that night, a barmaid, apropos of, it seemed, nothing at all, suddenly said, very loudly, "Me! I just want to go to bed".  Now when a barmaid says that, you've just got to misunderstand it, haven't you?  And the entire bar duly obliged.  She retired, hurriedly, perhaps not to bed, but certainly in some confusion.

          I'm off south on Monday morning, so I indulged in some emotional farewells with the weekday crowd.  It was probably a combination of the strength of feeling and the strength of the beer.  We managed to stop short of "Auld Lang Syne" and "Will Ye No Come Back Again".

          Then it was carefully up the hill, since the roads are now frozen, and the snow is too deep on the verges, and, of course, it being America, there are no sidewalks.