Cold & Dark

First of all, allow me to express my profound gratitude for the Archangel Gabriel sitting in for me last night while I was transforming into an ice cream bar on my ordinarily comfy couch. If he could get past Satan's minions to touch base with the prophet Daniel, getting around a lousy rotten winter hurricane and stubbornly lingering power outage should have been a piece of cake.

I report this afternoon from the local public library, one of just about every place around here that has had power restorted with the lone exception of my own neighborhood, which is still deader than Judas Iscariot. And to think I took vacation time to turn this into a four day (and eight days out of eleven) weekend. One of these times when I take vacation it will actually turn out to be a vacation instead of an adversity-filled endurance test that makes me relieved to go back to the rat race.

If you think I'm grumbly, you should hear my son. Let's just say he doesn't roll with the punches well. No wonder I'm grumbly.

I don't expect my electricity to be back on for days - heck, weeks, no matter what the stupid power company keeps assuring us - so the next place from which I log in might just be the office on Tuesday.

If I don't freeze to death first.