It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas on the Tantramarsh. Snow and more blowing snow. White out conditions. Lots of weather warnings in effect. One of the boys knocked on my door this morning, having overslept and forgotten the garbage (I did not oversleep . . . but of course forgot the garbage anyway). He wanted to know whether I’ll be here next week (but of course! where else would I be?) and if I could take the garbage out then. Sure! Not a problem! . . . Now, to remember . . . I need to write it on the calendar or something. All of my housemates will be clearing out between Friday and Sunday, so I’ll have lots of peace and quiet all next week. I am going to Mom’s next Friday, not sure how long I’m staying. It’s difficult to get any work done from there. Certainly stay through the weekend anyway for the Christmas crap. It’s a good thing he dropped by because I had completely forgotten about the heat situation and they were planning on turning it off completely. The boy was quite shocked to learn they’ve been heating my downstairs. I told him to leave the furnace set at 18 or so, but to turn off their baseboards . . . maybe then I won’t freeze to death. Someone took a half-assed swipe at the drive with a plow, but I’ve got to find a shovel to clean my step, unless one of the boys does it for me. Though I don’t mind doing it. Seems pointless until it stops though.
Drinking: coffee, french roast, fair trade, black
Listening To: Dry the Rain, The Beta Band