Failing

So I have good excuses for not keeping up on this blog. And really, there are a lot of posts I've begun that have gone unpublished and will maybe someday see the light of the world wide web when I get organized and have a little more time, which will be next week. Really (at least if we weren't leaving for Christmas break in ten days). But seriously, apart from the day to day craziness that is entertaining, feeding, and changing the diapers of my son there was the two day climbing excursion to Jackson Falls, Illinois followed immediately by the Thanksgiving holiday and the celebrations that ensued. That gives me the right to be at least one week behind. Then, I was excruciatingly close to posting a review of Joanna Newsom's mysteriously beautiful new album Ys when Haaken dirtied his diaper again, my wife got home from school, and then we in Missouri (misery) endured what in most places in the world would be a nice, quiet, welcomed winter storm. Back in God's Country (Montana), when such storms converge we have Winter Wonderland the next day: nice fluffy, soft snow that blows across the road and conjures up dreams of floating down the slopes of the Ridge at Bridger Bowl. Here it's two inches of ice followed by a mere inch of thick, sludgy white stuff. Ice topped by concrete. You can't ski this stuff. It's like what happens (at least in Montana) when it snows, gets warm for about a week, and then gets down to about 5 degrees again. Except in Montana this takes a good part of a month. Here it happened overnight. While I will concede that the ice coating all the trees was quite beautiful the day after the storm, the havoc that ensued has rapidly outweighed the aesthetic benefit encurred.

The storm came on Thursday night, when I sat outside on our porch sipping a Unibroue Trois Pistoles (much appreciated birthday gift from Ben and Ellie) and listened to thick, ten-inch diameter limbs snapping off trees as the rain turned to ice and brought them to the ground. At the time I found the experience beautiful--I've always loved the violent power of a strong storm. Then I awoke at 2:00 a.m. on Friday morning when our power went out. It's now Monday night. Still no power. Fortunately we have good friends that have allowed us to stay at their place for the last four days, as temperatures have been around 1o degrees at night and haven't risen above 30 during the day. So the house is a bit chilly. I'm trying to keep the plants alive by stopping by every day and turning on the stovetop burners for an hour or so. This momentarily raises the temperature from 42 to about 60. At least we don't have to worry about the food in the fridge going bad, like we did last time we didn't have power for five days (i.e., last July, when it was a freakin' sauna in this part of the country--over 100 degrees and insanely humid).

So there's my excuses for having a lame blog space. I had hoped to post at least three thought-provoking, controversial, edgy articles by now. But instead I only have a few pictures, an introductory piece, a "List" that only makes me feel guilty because I labeled it "Week One" (which implies there will be a "Week Two," "Week Three," etc.,) and this. To whomever is reading this, my apologies. Someday, perhaps, there will be something that will make you think. In the meantime, I recommend listening to Joanna Newsom's Ys, reading Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being, defrosting some food out of the freezer, and drinking a bottle of Ommegang "Three Philosophers" (Belgian quadrupel ale). That's what I'm doing in Missouri.