Okay, we go to bed – no snow, no prediction of incredible cold and biting wind chill. And this morning I hear the words “2-hour delay” – well, let’s forgo my usual response of “Rats” and go straight to . . . . “Damn”.  Der Bingle likes to do the breakfast short order thing, so I got eggs with stips of toast to dip in the yolk and others got pancakes. Oh, and orange juice – the type with no pulp. That was a sacrifice for him – he likes it so pulpy, you have to chew it.

But he is heading back this morning and I will have to handle things by myself again. By the way, someone said there are pod-like things growing in the furnace room. It just seems like I have heard something about this sort of thing before . . .