A day in the life of ice

Once again we have been slammed by an ice storm, nearly on the scale of the one in 2003. Jon and I have been holed up in our apartment, enjoying electricity, and Pope is confused by this break in his routine, doing a random hop-skip here, a frenzied gallop into the other room, instead of his normal day-long naps.

I have not been to work since Monday, and will not be back until next Monday. They have already closed campus for the rest of the week. Jon has been off since the beginning of the week, and most likely will be off through the rest of the week.

A big tree branch fell in front of our house onto Jon's car. The funny thing is, we don't think the car is damaged, due to its inch-thick coat of ice.

This morning, we walked to Starbucks for coffee. It was raining, water pooling on top of already-icy roads and sidewalks, slowly freezing. We made the 1/2 mile trek there safely, sans any fall (not for lack of trying on the ice's part). We stayed there for an hour or so, enjoying the warmth, hot coffee, listening to other people chatter about the storm. The rain changed to snow--snowflakes as fat as your thumb tumbling out of the sky--and the temperature dropped noticeably. Believe me, though, it's much better walking in snow than rain.

All the trees along Ashland were drooping with the combined weight of ice and snow. Their heavy branches obstructed the sidewalk, and branches littered the road. We saw more than one homeowner standing in their front yard, staring stupidly at the masses of branches covering their yards or leaning against their houses. It is so white, our camera is confused.

We're starting to go a little stir-crazy in our small apartment. Jon has conquered half of Europe in his "Total War" computer game, or whatever it is. I have already read a book and started another one. The TV has been on non-stop, either for the news or House reruns.

This is one thing about Kentucky I have never grown accustomed to: this propensity for freezing rain and ice.