When The Going Gets Weird . . .

An honest to God real live snowstorm blew through these parts, a rare sight indeed. In the five years that I’ve lived here, this was the first time I had to rub my eyes and remember that I was not back in Rock Island, Illinois or Racine Wisconsin. No, this was still Durham, just buried in seven inches of wonderful snow. I took great pride in demonstrating such snow-time activities as the parking lot doughnut and sledding down the street on a cookie sheet.

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