Tuesday, March 16, 2004
"So," you say to me, "What did you get from twelve years of Catholic education?" "Well," I might tell you, "I learned about faith." "What did you learn?" "I learned that even though tomorrow is March 17th, and a foot of snow has just fallen, I should take the garbage to the curb, and yea, verily, the recycling too."
It has been one of those winters. We didn't get all that much snow, but what we got, we got all at once, and then the deep freeze set in, just as we'd all taken our Christmas trees out to the curb. For the next two and a half months they sat there, the nubs of them sticking out, the rest of them deep frozen in the snow banks like popsicle sticks. When the break in the weather finally came, there they were, the denuded Christmas trees, their needles carpeting the sidewalks, just as they'd carpeted our living rooms in early January. For a couple of days the whole neighborhood smelled like Christmas-- and dog shit. Mostly Christmas, so that was good. Now, in the perverse way that Buffalo has Spring, we have a foot of snow, and it looks like the children will have a snow day for St. Pat's. I put the garbage at the curb, serine in the knowledge that if St. Patrick's Day isn't a negotiated holiday in the sanitation worker's collective bargaining agreement, a snow day like tomorrow will surely be certainly is, and my garbage will be picked up bright and early.
It has been one of those winters. We didn't get all that much snow, but what we got, we got all at once, and then the deep freeze set in, just as we'd all taken our Christmas trees out to the curb. For the next two and a half months they sat there, the nubs of them sticking out, the rest of them deep frozen in the snow banks like popsicle sticks. When the break in the weather finally came, there they were, the denuded Christmas trees, their needles carpeting the sidewalks, just as they'd carpeted our living rooms in early January. For a couple of days the whole neighborhood smelled like Christmas-- and dog shit. Mostly Christmas, so that was good. Now, in the perverse way that Buffalo has Spring, we have a foot of snow, and it looks like the children will have a snow day for St. Pat's. I put the garbage at the curb, serine in the knowledge that if St. Patrick's Day isn't a negotiated holiday in the sanitation worker's collective bargaining agreement, a snow day like tomorrow will surely be certainly is, and my garbage will be picked up bright and early.
// posted by Bill @ 10:13 PM 
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