A conservatory of Ldotter blogs.

Monday, December 27, 2004

Of course, it proves nothing. . .

. . .about global warming, so I won't even try to make the case. But, for three days leading up to Christmas, it was colder than a well digger's ass, and we got about 14 inches of snow, here in western Kentucky. At one point, the temperature hit at least -2, perhaps lower when I wasn't looking.

It wasn't quite as cold during the days, though, as the sun beat down on the snow atop my roof, causing it to melt a bit. I knew this not because I actually ventured outside. I'm as anti-winter as it gets. To say that I don't like cold weather is to say Michael Moore is a tad unkempt. No, I knew this because, as I lay on my couch where I fell asleep watching TV, I awoke to the sound of water dripping. At first, I thought it was happening outside. . .a steady drip landing on a ledge just outside the window. But, I quickly discovered otherwise when I went to my bedroom to get a pair of socks to cut the chill on my mercilessly temperature sensitive feet.

I opened the door and saw a sagging ceiling, pregnant with fat droplets of crystal clear water falling to the sodden carpet below. Fortunately, for some inexplicable reason, I had moved my recently washed clothes, still in their baskets, to a corner in the room, just out of reach of the indoor waterfall that was my bedroom. And, just as fortunately, my bed escaped the deluge, as well. You'd think that would be enough good fortune, right?

Well, it just so happens that I'm in the process of moving! So, not only did I manage to escape the drudgery of having to rewash all of my clothes, I've managed to avoid the hassle of getting my landlord to take care of the matter with any sense of urgency. Talk about serendipity. . .I've got it in spades. But, that's not all.

As the snowplows were making their way up and down the street in front of my home, my mailbox was knocked over for the second time. Normally, this would necessitate a good deal of work to remedy. But, now, all I have to do is run on down to the post office, pick up the undelivered mail, fill out the forwarding address card, and I'm done. No post hole digging, no sledgehammer, no concrete. Just a quick stop, and I'm on my merry way.

But, wait. . .there's more! As a result of my moving, I'll get a brand new phone number. With that comes the opportunity to purge from the roster of my life all the people from whom I no longer care to hear -- at least for a while, anyway -- until the number is published. And, unfortunately, I do need a published number, since I do occasionally get calls from old friends I haven't heard from in a long time.

Of course, I've developed some friendships over the internet -- and there are one or two that I talk to on the phone from time to time. So, if you're reading this, and you're one of those people, I'll email my phone number to you when I find out exactly what it is. My email address and other contact information will stay as-is, so I can always be reached that way.

Wish me luck in this transition. It's going to be a lot of work done in a rather hectic fashion. Hopefully, I won't be offline for an extended period of time. I plan to hold off moving the computer and The Cheat 'til the very end, so I'll be reachable that way. Thanks for your patience, and try not to forget about me if I disappear from the blogosphere for a brief period.


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