It was 50 degrees outside today. Or so I’m told, as I was inside, sequestered at my desk for the duration.
The sun was out quite a bit today, and as I sit near a bank of windows, I closed the blinds because the sun makes reading my screens nearly impossible…At least when it’s at a lower angle.
I parked away from the parking lot stream I’d mentioned a couple of days ago, but it was easy this morning to know where it was–the frozen flow made for a 10-foot-wide slick spot traversing about half of the parking lot. And in their infinite wisdom, no one had bothered to throw some sand on it.
The melting and warmth following the extreme cold of a couple of weeks ago has made the potholes bloom forth like some sort of prairie flower, though I’m thinking of warning the girls not to cross the street, because I’m starting to worry that they could be practically swallowed up by some of the smaller potholes if they’re not careful. One thing I do have to say, though, is that I hate it when you can’t tell how big they are when they’re filled with water: it’s only after you run into it, while trying to avoid one that you’ve decided is larger, that you discover that it’s actually trying to channel one of the Great Lakes. But no worries: the newly detatched tire and wheel will keep the car afloat long enough for rescuers to arrive.
What does it say about Minnesotans, though, that we’ve become equally adept at driving on snow and ice as we are at dodging potholes and trying to judge which are worse? There are stunt drivers that couldn’t do it as well and avoid accidents as well as we do.
Our luck is about to change, though, according to the weather man. I was just looking ahead, and the prediction is for only 29 degrees on Sunday…Alas, to whence did our other 21 degrees go?
But that’s later. Tomorrow, more spring. Maybe I’ll get outside to enjoy it.
See you tomorrow.