Snowed like a sonuvagun for an hour, then cleared completely. Maybe an inch accumulation on top of a 1/4″ of ice, so it was another hour before I could clear my solar panels but we’re actually in pretty good shape right now. You want to see something sinfully luxurious? May be NSFW if your boss is ascetic, just saying…

On a typical day of this sort, on any of my previous nine winters in the Gulch, I’d be huddling in two or three sweatshirts and praying for April. The wind is blowing, the snow is horizontal, the temperature may not creep above freezing by sundown – and my only complaint is I really wish I hadn’t put that last log on the fire. A little tarpaper and plywood goes a long way.


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They say that Louis XIV had the inscription Ultima Ratio Regum cast into all the cannon of the French Army. It means “The Ultimate Argument of Kings,” and that always struck me as one of the most honest and up-front things any ruler or would-be ruler ever said. “We can dress it up prettier than this, but when it comes down to the unvarnished truth this is what it’s about: You’ll do as I say or I’ll send my goons to kill you.”
I thought about that for a long time. If there’s an ultimate argument, it seems only logical that there must be an ultimate answer. For years I thought the ultimate answer must be the bullets in my rifle, but it never seemed quite right. I’ve got bullets – he’s got frigging Cannon Balls. I mean, if there were three hundred million rifles throwing bullets at him, then maybe. But we all know that’s not going to happen. So if there’s an ultimate answer to his ultimate argument, it sure as hell ain’t bullets.
It finally came to me – and that’s when I abandoned the city and most of my stuff, and gave all that was behind me a good stiff Randian Shrug.
The ultimate answer to kings is not a bullet, but a belly laugh.
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The ability to open a window and let the fresh air in is one of the better things.
Especially if the dogs have gas.