Stop the presses
Our favourite Chinese place (Mandarin) was closed, which Chase was boggled at.
So we went bowling.
There was a family there opening presents. They had a giant tray of cookies and did not share any.
More pictures in the Flickr set.
First off, I guess somehow it is Saturday (how that happened, I don’t know), and so Slow Build has updated. Racing, in which we meet a new person.
More importantly. This was my bus stop this morning. It is not much, but it has been there a while and is getting really weird and compacted:
But Forest Grove is always grosser, weather-wise, than Portland. However, the snow remained persistent and steady all damn day. My fantastic employer encouraged me to leave early, because I live out in the suburbs and Tri-Met’s alerts kept showing more and more routes closed. So I left at 1:45. And got home at 5:45 (twice the normal time), narrowly avoiding frostbite and having made two new friends: the lady who was in jail once and let me use her cell to tell Chase I was not dead and the guy who got out of prison three weeks ago and talked to me about embroidery and crocheting stuffed animals.*
I’d really rather that the precipitation not be frozen and that we were dealing with floods. I know floods. I can handle them. Nonetheless, the snow was pretty, my favourite busker had a buddy playing with him today and I got to see a wheel dozer scooping snow off the train tracks at the HTC.
*To avoid the kind-hearted but super annoying girl who talked about smuggling drugs by strapping them under her huge boobs. I am not being crude, these are the words she used. Also, I do not think being in prison is like being an ethnicity or whatever**, where you know everyone who also shares your trait, so that is probably why he did not know her uncle who killed somebody.
**JOKE, duh.