of snowballs and men

Not the Simpsons’ ex-cat or the quirky fellatio act but a ball made of flakes of snow. That’s beautiful, man, said William “snowball” Black in Clerks. It snowed in ‘diff last week, which is supposed to be unusual due to 'diff's coastalness but not too uncommon since it has been known to snow for a day or two in Feb. ‘Tho this time it was heavy. The heaviest snowfall in fifty years. I love these stats.

I awoke in the early afternoon, drew the blinds, and saw white. Senghennydd was covered with snow that was melting since I was late. I grabbed the camera and took some snapshots. It was wild. I had slept through the snowing, and I did ‘cos I didn’t feel the climate change. It wasn’t too cold; not below zero since the Canadian mentioned it wasn’t but had all the right ingredients for snow.

Checked out the snowman made by the undergrads, who looked bleak in the wasteland. I felt like I missed out on the snow flakings but snow was predicted the next day and snow, it did.

I had school the next day so I waded through the snow with an umbrella. Met the chaps and was attacked by the snowball-throwing undergrads. There were some vain attempts to make some balls but it was too cold plus I was lazy. I hid in the trenches. It didn’t snow the day after or until today; plucking away any hopes of a snow day and hibernation.