6:49 p.m. - Friday, Feb. 02, 2007
When Dog#2 and I went out for our walk, it was twenty degrees F, with a powerful wind that swept up the snow from the ground and waved it in sheets over the fields like a bad-tempered cleaning lady.
...Oh, check out that simile! Folks, that is literature.
We crossed the empty field and scrambled up the steep railroad grade to the track level. We'd been up there only a minute when I heard the whistle of a train in the distance — far away, probably a couple of miles, but I have a very healthy respect for trains. And Rule #1 about trains is: They're always going faster than you think. So I immediately made arrangements to get the hell away from there. We scrambled half-way back down the grade. Then I waited for the train to come so I could snap a picture. Froze my toes waiting for it. Then the damn picture didn't come out.
Now I'm cold and I'm tired and it's going to be even colder tomorrow.