Holy chestnut-backed chickadees, Batman, it’s March! And it’s about danged time I got back into the palindrome habit. So, a bonus entry to take care of that item of business.
This month’s palindrome will be in honor of my sister and especially in honor of our friend Jeff Allen, who taught her this palindrome when we were kids:
RACE CAR
Thanks, Emily! And thanks, Jeff! It’s good to be back in touch!
One day recently I ran across a couple of interesting bumpers. This first one is a bit blurry, I just barely managed to get the picture before it got away. But I could not resist trying to get a picture. In addition to the Darwin fish, they have one sticker that says I’M KILLING THE EARTH! and one that says RESPECT CERTAIN ELDERS and I just thought both of those were great. (As always, click to embiggen.)
Then there’s the sign in the background that says 15TH AVE BRIDGE PROJECT BRIDGE CLOSED. This sign is in our neighborhood. The closed bridge is in our neighborhood. The bridge was closed last May for some kind of super complicated safety upgrade. We wish the bridge would be closed forever! Even though it’s not very convenient to have to find an alternate route if we’re going north. See, the street we live on used to be a busy thoroughfare , and now it’s more like a cul de sac. We’ve been joking about hiring a saboteur so we can keep our peaceful street. But the sign, oh, the sign. Who did up this sign? It would have been so simple to make it make sense. 15TH AVE BRIDGE CLOSED. Simple as that.
Ah well, too late anyway. The bridge is supposed to open up again in April, which is [gasp!] next month. So sad for us. (Pssssst! Know any reliable saboteurs?)
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Next! This one was parked in my neighborhood the same day. I actually drove around the block to come back and take a picture of this one, because, wtf?
I even googled “jesus fish elephant” and did not get any significant results. Maybe my google fu needs work, or maybe my imagination needs censoring. Whatever. I’ve been drinking.
Drawn with dabs of river water last week, by little M.
Partway finished:
Mostly finished. “This is a cheek! This is another cheek!”
And these are drawn with countless raindrops, by Mother Nature:
We happened to be down at the river during a light rainfall, after the tops of the rocks were soaked but before the sides were completely saturated. Nice stripey patterns.
This one looks to me like a piano.
Mother Nature had also been busy decorating the shoulders of the mountains with a little bit of snow. And showing us a bit of blue sky. Strange light that day.
An advertisement on the side of a bus. It took me a second to figure out what the problem was. (Click to embiggen a little bit.)
Haha! So, who has time to do this? Someone with access to the bus while it’s parked, I would think. Subversive bus driver? Bus fixer? Or someone who can hang from the side of the bus while it’s moving? I would think Spiderman had better things to do.
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*Reading aloud in my Honors English class in high school, I pronounced subtle sub-tle. The whole class laughed. I had thought suttle and subtle were two different words. I felt a little better when, years later, a very smart friend said gaze-bo. That’s what we get for having been avid young readers.
We had a lovely weekend at the cabin. Highlights: we got in a couple of good walks to the river, and had some great food courtesy of big M: taco soup! homemade chicken pot pie! beautiful little steaks on the grill! We are lucky indeed.
Sunday was gorgeous, cold and sunny. Monday, our last day there, it rained a bit. Sleeted a bit. Sometime after dark, it started to snow. Just a little while before we left. By the time we were underway, it was coming down pretty hard. Big wet flakes putting lace all over the trees. Beautiful.
Homeward bound! We head the truck down our little gravel road. A few minutes later we’re stopped at the highway, waiting until the coast is clear to pull out and head west. The snow is whirling all around. The traffic is sparse, slower than usual, but the surface of the road isn’t too snowy yet. Good. We pull out. Accelerate. The snow flies at us. It’s like going to warp! Or engaging the hyperdrive! It looks so cool… until we realize we can’t see the road. Can’t see the yellow center line. Can’t see the white line on the side. All we can see are big glowing snowflakes, all lit up by the headlights. And the tail lights of the car in front are disappearing fast.
I’m terrified. It’s a curvy mountain road, complete with steep dropoffs and narrow bridges. Big M is driving (my hero!) and concentrating on trying to see… anything. There are occasional moments of relief. When we pass under a big tree, the snow thins and we can see. And once in a while, when there is an oncoming vehicle, we can see. It’s funny — usually I curse the oncoming traffic on that road at night, because of the glare of the headlights. But this time I am wishing there was a constant stream of it, because the oncoming headlights light up the road for us, and the snowflakes become invisible for a few moments. Street lamps have the same effect, but those are few and far between.
This goes on for about 12 or 13 miles, until we finally reach small town civilization. The roads are better illuminated here, and the snow is mixed with rain. And we can stop holding our breath. Or at least I can. Big M has been remarkably calm throughout. I did notice he kept both hands on the wheel the whole time — even asked me to adjust the back seat temperature for little M so that he wouldn’t have to let go the wheel. I hadn’t even heard her asking us to turn it down. Too freaked / mesmerized by the snowflakes flying into my brain.
The next day, around midday, the cabin cam had this to report:
So perhaps it was a good thing that we came home when we did. Driving through this large amount of snow would have presented a whole different set of problems. Still! Lesson learned: Snow in the forecast? Come home during the day!