Gooberschnoozles, etc.

Warning: Explicit content. Read at your own risk. No pictures have been posted out of concern for my audience.

I have currently been in Atlanta for two weeks. It was all going quite well until I developed the largest gooberschnoozle I have ever had in my life. Ever. Right on the end of my nose. It started benignly enough, just a little red patchiness. Then, last week one day, as I was minding my own business, I came to the realization that this was not yo' mama's average gooberschnoozle; it was going to be a full blown, scheming, corrupt gooberschnoozle and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Over the next few days, it became an angry, frustrated, discontent gooberschnoozle apparently convinced it is destined to take over my nose. The fight is still not over. In fact, I am not sure it has even really begun.

This was an inconvenient time to have a fuming, bubbling, gurgling gooberschnoozle on my nose. I am new here, and it is hard to make friends when you have a depraved and misdirected gooberschnoozle; it is like the dead draft horse lying in the middle of the room that everyone tries to ignore and not trip over. And I am trying to impress people, here. I mean, do people write good letters of recommendation for people that have sneaky, underhanded gooberschnoozles? I don’t even know. Does anyone out there know anything on this topic?

For the few of you out there that might still be reading this and aren’t totally disgusted and dismayed, please know, that while I can’t promise gooberschnoozle-free friendships, I am a loyal and compassionate person and I still want to be your friend.

The end. 

Oh, Atlanta

I learned this morning on the news that Atlanta owns ten snowplows. And those are really just dump trucks with snow plow attachments. Since that was not nearly enough to get anything productive accomplished, the city contacted 48 local residents that happen to own tractors to help them remove the layers of snow and ice that have paralyzed the city since Monday morning.

I walked to the grocery store yesterday and I noted three things: 1) no cars on the road, 2) no produce on the shelves and 3) friction is desirable, especially on hills.

Since public transportation has been down, I spent my time productively yesterday using this

to do this

and Bobby, my landlady's friend, swept behind me

Because why wouldn't you sweep snow off a driveway?

It was like chipping off an ice sandwich piece by piece. Ice-snow-ice. I guess that would be a snow sandwich. About five inches of snow fell Sunday night, the first layer melted, and then after the snow fell freezing rain. The major roadways are clear now except for a large amount of water, which refreezes at night to cause large black ice patches, and the city doesn't have and can't mobilize enough vehicles to properly clear and salt the roads. Therein lies the trouble.

We actually ended up doing this whole part too, you know, just for fun.

At first I thought we were actually shoveling the entire driveway (as opposed to a path) for a good reason. Turns out we weren't because neither of them intended to use their cars on those roads.

But at least they COULD if they WANTED to.

Be prepared.

My Sister as Elf #2

I hope Beth won't mind me sharing this picture of her.  It was taken about 6 or 7 years ago, and I can't say it's a very accurate portrayal of how she looked then or now.  Nonetheless, my house elf picture that Katie posted below somehow reminded me of it, and since my wife is gone and posting pictures on our blog is more fun than studying, here it is for all to enjoy!

I need to share some things

There are three things I need to share.

1. This picture. I can't keep it to myself any longer.

Alex made the second to last cut as a house elf on Harry Potter.

2. This story (recounted from a Jewish rabbi in a book called Have a Little Faith by Mitch Albom)

A man seeks employment on a farm. He hands his letter of recommendation to his new employer. It reads simply, 'He sleeps in a storm.' The owner is desperate for help, so he hires the man.

Several weeks pass, and suddenly, in the middle of the night, a powerful storm rips through the valley.

Awakened by the swirling rain and howling wind, the owner leaps out of bed. He calls for his new hired hand, but the man is sleeping soundly.

So he dashes off to the barn. He sees, to his amazement, that the animals are secure with plenty of feed. He runs out to the field. He sees the bales of wheat have been bound and are wrapped in tarpaulins. He races to the silo. The doors are latched, and the grain is dry. And then he understands. 'He sleeps in a storm.'

My friends, if we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of 'I could have, I should have.' We can sleep in a storm.

And when it's time, our good-byes will be complete.

3. This song: 

PS I am living in Atlanta for six weeks starting yesterday. I desperately miss everything about Illinois except for the cold. Including Ruben and my elf.