(no subject)

I have this feeling that I'm caught in a Laura Ingalls Wilder story
lately. (Minus the horses alas, and plus a few engines.) Amy came and
picked me up and we drove out to her place. The roads were fine. Their
lane, unfortunately, wasn't. We got stuck half-way up. The wind was
howling and it was frigidly cold and dark, of course. As we trudged,
bundled to the nines, to the house, I was in the picture in Farmer Boy
of the 4 children going to school - bundled also to the nines, heads
bent against the wind. Mix that in with Pa walking through the snow in
the dark, and you'll have us nearly exactly. Just add a suitcase in.
Then, last night, as we drove in to meeting, I skipped ahead some years
and dropped into The Long Winter. Specifically when Almanzo and his
friend went after the wheat. It was utterly still, and below freezing
by a fair bit. The moon was nearly full, and it was almost as light as
daytime. And you just have that feeling of the storm right over the
horizon waiting to pounce. I kept looking up at the stars
half-expecting to see them being blotted out one by one as the blizzard
cloud rolled in.
It didn't... /that's/ supposed to happen tonight. But, according to the
weather forecast, not until after midnight, so we can go to the potluck
in safety. I hope!!