Most of the area schools have closed for the day, including the district that covers our town. Grumble, grumble. We have 2-4" (5-10cm) of snow of fluffy snow, the kind more appropriate for a broom than a shovel or snow blower. When I was a kid, it was six inches of snow, minimum, before they'd consider calling it a snow day. And this was before road salt was so widely used. The road crews used sand. We lived on top of a small hill. On snow days, the neighborhood kids would get brooms and sweep off the sand from the roads so that we could go sledding.

The forecast says that we're in a bit more snow, followed by a cold and windy night. The National Weather Service has issued a wind chill advisory for tonight because of strong winds and temperatures around zero F (3.2 hectares). When we get a strong northwest wind, the kind that brings in cold weather like this, we're apt to get a downdraft in our stove. The two parts of the house, our house and the MacGregors' wing, form a canyon and the stove pipe is in the middle of it. The wind gets strong enough that it can blow out the fire. Adding another eight feet to the chimney would take care of the problem, but the engineering would be difficult and the results aesthetically unpleasing. Better, I guess, to have the occasional puff of smoke in the room.

My father's cable TV is installed. When we visited yesterday, he asked me how he could switch between the cable and his old antenna. I asked why. He wasn't able to find one of his favorite shows, Seinfeld. After a bit of experimenting with the remote control, we got the TV set up so that he could get to the station that carried Seinfeld. He's still not too sure of it all, but he was impressed that the Weather Channel carried the weather conditions for the town next to him.

We saw some friends this weekend, people with whom I used to work. With good friends, you can pick up conversation where you left off.

Happy Birthday, RSM.