Snow. Again.

Well, so much for driving down to DC for the inauguration. It would have been really fun to hang out with my cousin, but we got about a foot snow starting Saturday night, and I would have needed to leave Sunday, and I couldn't even get out of my driveway until about 7 pm Sunday - grocery store was out of reach, never mind another city. Le sigh. Yes, I do have a shovel. But I just *knew* Plow Guy would arrive as I was finishing shoveling the entire driveway, and I really didn't want to do that again. It's a rather long driveway. Early evening heralded the arrival of... Plow Guy! Huzzah!

So then it started snowing even more. So of course I went to the movies.

So. On the drive into Cambridge, I slid to the side of the road twice and had some assorted other wobbles. If I weren't from here, and if there'd been much other traffic, it would have been scarier. Mais comme ca, it was eh. Glad I was driving for 40 minutes instead of 9 hours.

(Frost/Nixon is pretty good.)

Plow guy came in the wee hours to make my driveway super-excellent most marvelously passable! Plow Guy has redeemed himself! Yay, Plow Guy!

Oldest child has her last exam on Wed. night. I, carefree scholar, have merely a wrap-up lecture on Thursday and some fooling around with a bit of writing that I want to send my history of science professor ('cause she asked, that's why).

So happy Martin Luther King Day, all, and happy Day of Hope. I don't yet dare imagine what it'll be like to put the Bush years behind us as a country; not just yet. I don't want to jinx it. My middle daughter says she can't really remember a time before Dubya's presidency. I know there are millions of other kids like her, and I want to scream. For the nonce, I shall limit the screaming to the pillows, smile sagely, tell my children that it is a great day.

Oldest voted for this president. She and her friends look at us oldsters, we sitting in stunned horror at the last 8 years, and cock their heads, and they are figuring out how to figure out what to do with their lives. Perhaps it is a scrap of help that the president offered such a huge example of What Not To Do, in almost every possible way.

So. Hope, that wells up from the tsunami of joy as tomorrow approaches. I cannot remember the last time "tomorrow" meant something so good. And hope, from the more tangible lives of the extraordinary kids I know. I pass down the traditions of what I know. They take up everything, and make beauty.

Tomorrow. Yay.