cimorene

I think I've mentioned before that it's a bad sign when you can't even use correct punctuation for the length of one sentence of story summary, but it's deeply and meaningfully sad that this problem seems to come up so often. Or, actually, kind of funny, depending on how you look at it. (wax suggests it's actually fortunate, because it saves you the trouble of clicking the link.)

Meanwhile, I still feel like there's an inflated balloon inside my head, and we're mostly out of bread.

It's hovering around 0 C, and has gotten significantly more sunny, so the top layer of ice has melted on the sidewalks and so on, leaving a thick layer of gravel in many places, or draining mostly away and freezing into a thin smooth sheet of glass with gravel trapped underneath in others. Also on Friday a snowplow went over the bridge and broke down the waist-high wall of black-grime-layered solidified snow piled between the sidewalk and the speeding cars. Now there's a porous blackened strip of ice a few inches high looking like a buzz cut, covered in an almost solid layer of gigantic dog poop (I mean, what, rottweiler? Samoyed?) so that you could practically plant flowers there without any further soil. People in this city are absolutely horrible about picking up after their dogs - I've only seen anyone else doing it once. And it's a very concrete-filled urban landscape, not like letting your dog out into the forest, or in a clump of bushes. People are even worse about it in winter, so of course come the thaw, the margins alongside the sidwalks are practically covered. They even have an aphorism for that in Swedish. Lovely, isn't it?