status report from khoönkhwuttunne

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I think I gave you the harsh weather news last night, and I am keeping to my gratitude for the late spike in Arctic ice, not going to bitch about it. It has been raining and hailing and snowing by turns and in concert for pretty much all the time since I mentioned it last night. Old Uncle Dave says they were requiring chains between Willits and Leggett this morning, early, and if yer not from around here I guess you couldn't guess exactly how preposterous that is, but, well, it's too ridiculous to contemplate. A little trouble with ice betimes, sure, very early of a winter morn, but they come out and dust that with some reddish something so the logging trucks don't go skidding off the roads. We're talking snow on Highway 101 in April... in a LOW stretch of the Coastal Range. There's a stretch south of me and north of Eureka that goes up pretty high to give the ancients in the park a rest from all the vehicle emissions. There are days every winter where that's got snow and ice on it, but it's April. March is considered late for frost here.

I'm thinking just now, and I'm out of brandy, so, uhm, I'm sober, that my concern for the polar bears may be about to be rewarded by the buddhas of the ten directions. I may be getting polar bears for neighbors any day.
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They upped my thyroid hormone dose a couple weeks ago, and that's making me feel much better. I have been maniacal about taking my vitamins—especially the D and B12—every night at "bedtime" and my hormones every "morning" when I get up... and keeping down to a size six for a solid year now. All those little inflamed spots all over me are gone. Check it out: I can shave my legs again without the task fertilizing fields of angry and bleedy mystery bumps. I've done it TWICE so far this week, and nary a blip. My poor hair is not breaking off anymore. I'm not scraping up fistfuls of it from my floor anymore. My teeth aren't breaking and wobbling. My chin isn't numb. My legs aren't cramping when I walk a block. I can think. I am not even a quarter as forgetful and foggy and unable to work up the fire to so much as put on my socks.

I think that if I had enough nickels to rub together I could do a fairly sustained imitation of a mover and shaker again... if we just didn't get too prissy about a timetable for what we deemed "sustained"—sleep disorders not yielding to anything as sensible as a schedule. I think just about every day, at some point in it, I could be relied upon to impress the living daylights out of someone... a couple someones... maybe even a bunch of them.

Imagine that!
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Except... well... just now, leaving the house is not advisable.
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I can hear my old friend Connie, from Maine, griping about what candy asses we Californians are about snow. She was appalled by what we deem mandatory chains conditions, said she never used chains in all her life in Maine, no matter how much snow. Sheesh, said she, Grow a pair! I actually believe her. I actually am pretty good, for a Californian, for a girl, at driving in awful conditions, but... uhm... this is pretty much useless in view of the pinheads on the roads with me, and Goldie's heater is dead, which leaves me having to drive with my window open to keep from fogging up so badly I can't see the road. I can totally deal with the temperature problem this presents, but the part about the water coming in with me... well... that is, like, really, honestly, so below optimal.

So. I have plenty of coffee. I have plenty of smokes. I'm jake. I can wait it out. I can think of all the polar bears who won't be drowning this year and busy myself swallowing vitamins and talking to you....
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