Buddha wanted to find an end to suffering; well this morning, I'd like to find an end to snow. I'm tempted to go off on a Herman Melville-inspired chapter on the beauty and horror of the color white, but it's the stickiness, the messiness, of the stuff that has my attention. I'm not going for a run this morning, I want to, I can feel the tug, but really what would I be proving? That I am addicted to endorphins, and I have no common sense? Yes, well, that's no news.
Ok, so, as Der Bingel so eloquently put it, 'let it snow, let it snow,' (since there's no choice in the matter, I must adopt an Alfred E. Neumann - Mad Magazine's gap-toothed buddha - 'what, me worry?' attitude) I'm hunkering in. I will be commuting from my kitchen to my 'study,' and back again. I am armed with an internet capable computer and a cell phone - the world is my oyster (pry it open - find coupons to be redeemed for valuable prizes later). Anyway, Buddha tells us, that all of this is impermanent, and when it comes to snow, he is right.