Dear Bob, here are some photos of my life here on the campus of Concordia Seminary. I love kids, working with the grounds crew, swimming, playing with my dog friends, and especially my own family people.
Once again I have to drive over to Collinsville for a dentist appointment during morning rush hour in a pouring rain on a highway where it's impossible to see the lane lines. I'm really dreading this trip after the one two weeks ago. I could wait til it gets a bit lighter, but that means taking a chance on a traffic jam and being late for the appointment.
Nothing like a broken tooth to make you actually want to get to the dentist.
I've said this before, but this morning's drive over to Illinois in the dark and in the rain, just re-emphasized how poorly the St. Louis area highway lanes are marked. It is truly impossible to see the lane marks in both directions on 64 from downtown to who knows where out west. The rain and dark make things worse. After the 55-70/64 split in East St. Louis, IDOT at least thought to put glow in the dark hash marks in their lanes. The lanes may not be painted in a way that shows up well in dark and rain, but the glowing hashes help.
I just don't get this. All that construction work to supposedly make travel better and they use invisible ink to paint the lanes. I have an early dentist appointment in Illinois otherwise I would have waited til it got light to come over.
While we were in Collinsville this weekend during the snow event, the door to our screened in porch at the seminary must have blown open. One of the least popular aspects of living on campus in the winter is the way heavy snow suddenly crashes down from the steeply pitched roofs. The snow piles up on the roofs, the heat from the house eventually warms the pile enough that it loosens and the roars down with a sound like a train. This happens to the faculty houses and the campus buildings. You don't want to be walking under the rooflines after a snow because this stuff is heavy and icy and could really hurt.
Anyway. At some point yesterday the roof snow crashed down in front of the porch door and landed in a huge icy pile in such a way that in order to get that door closed that snow has to be moved. There's no point in waiting for it to melt because history has shown that it may take a couple of weeks. So this is my job for today, hack away with various tools to get it away from the open door.
Cemeteries are normally quiet places, but yesterday as Dale, Ferdie and I took a walk through the Holy Cross Cemetery it was quieter than ever what with 6 inches of new and untouched snow. At first it was almost physically disorienting because the sky and the snow came together as if there was no horizon. We were the first to put our footprints into this snow and it was just a gorgeous, serene walk.