In like a lion, out like the tit of a tundra-witch
This is what my apartment courtyard looked like at 4 pm this afternoon, four days before spring:
Now it's 10 pm, and everything's all soft and cocainey outside. The plow has been past twice (once for the sidewalks, once for the bike lanes), and the dandruff seems to have stopped, at least for now. This beslushing happens at least once a year, and in spite of their two-horned reputation, the Danes are America-grade wusses when it comes to driving, biking, walking and public-transporting through this stuff. Work will be a graveyard tomorrow, I swear.
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