Eye of the Chicken
A journal of Harbin, China


At long last, winter arrives.
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Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh, winter is finally here! The high today is 3 degrees F; tonight we might see -6 F if all goes well. I love love LOVE this weather! (If you don't love it, too, I know that you invariably will think I've lost my marbles. You either get it or you don't; very few people do.) But the way the snow crunches when it's around zero is just incomparable; the crisp, clear air seems so healthy and cleansing . . . I wish it would stay like this until April.

And it's an extra bonus, having this cold snap in February. It has been years since it's been this cold this late; I know this, because cross-country skiing at sunset in February is one of my favorite things to do, and it has been many years since we've had the snow for it. The thing about sunsets in February is, they last a long time (comparatively speaking). In December it's about three minutes from dusk to total darkness. In February, you get almost an hour. (I'll try to take pix but the digicam doesn't like the cold . . . )

It's been a pleasant, albeit somewhat hectic weekend. Yesterday Em and I ended up driving her friend to Ann Arbor; Em had picked her up on Friday but yesterday, blowing snow and snow squalls made traveling a bit dicey, so we went in the all-wheel-drive Subaru (which has a manual transmission, which Em can't drive, which is how I got involved). Last night Emil and I saw Notes on a Scandal, which I really liked: It was a wonderful character study. Short on plot, though, which Emil didn't like. I'd like to read the book or story it came from; I bet it would be even richer than the movie. Judi Dench was wonderful.

Today a colleague and her 6- and 3-year-old daughters came over for lunch, which was very fun. Well, at least for me and her: While we had a good conversation, the girls attached themselves to Emil and amused themselves by playing his violin, banjos, and tin whistles . . . and playing with his rat, and on his computer . . . We tried to plop them in front of the tv a few times, but he and his room were far more interesting than the television. As they were leaving, the older one said, "I want to come back here tomorrow!" (But honey, tomorrow he'll be at work, and I'm not nearly so patient . . . )

Now I have to get ready for class tomorrow, but before I do that, I have to go dig up the polar ski wax my brother sent me from Wyoming years ago . . . the sun is setting and the snow is calling my name . . .




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