In the news

Two things to share with you, both from New York Times stories this week.

This, from a story about the new Olympic sport ski cross and its competitors, had me laughing loudly: "Others included Richard Spalinger of Switzerland, whose hobbies were announced as football, anger management and bowling."

And this, sweeter, is from an obituary of a guy who created a number of magazines. The quote is from his wife: “Would you say he was a strong outdoorsman? No, but he tried everything,” Mrs. Welsh said. “His whole motto was, ‘Life should be lived like a cavalry charge.’ ”

More about the snow

I realize it gets mentioned a lot, but it is omnipresent. So.

Over the past week, the snow has looked like flaked glass chips, confetti and grated Parmesan cheese. As well as plain old snow.

And when I had a visitor from Southern climes last weekend, he humored me by walking outside and saying, "Hey! It's snowing!" every time. (And yes, it was.) I had been lamenting the fact that my Southern friends got snow and were excited about it, while everyone here seems to be pretty much all snowed out.

It is a lot of snow.

So much so, in fact, that I got stuck in the driveway last week. My friendly neighbor pushed me out. So I made chocolate chip cookies in return. Yum.

I'm rich!

Cleaning out my wallet today, I discovered $40 tucked between receipts. And that's awesome.

Zebras

Thanks to Andi (and later, a string of amusing Facebook updates), I was tipped off to this tale of a zebra run amuck in Atlanta's streets.

Alone, this is amusing. But what makes it fantastic is the fact that this is the third zebra story to come out of Atlanta in as many years.

Take the case of Evidence, who was found grazing on the side of the highway, or Barcode, who was zebra-napped as a college prank. Something about Atlanta calls for zebra freedom, it seems.

What would you name your zebra? I think I would alter a friend's idea slightly and go with Red.

Snow flakes

Rumor has it that the Eskimos have many words for snow. It's certainly true that there are a plethora of ways a snowfall can manifest itself.

This afternoon, the snow was coming down in one of my favorite ways: as individual flakes. So when they landed on my black coat, I could see the different shapes and compare them to each other. No two alike, indeed.

Look, up in the sky!

There's just something so wonderful about the Goodyear blimp hanging over the skyline.

Black and white and read all over

First, a little bit about me.

I am not a morning person. I always mean to wake up early enough to take the bus to work, where I can leisurely read the paper, but then I do not. Instead, I drive to work.

But I still want to know the morning's news. And since there are many traffic lights on my commute, I read the paper on my way in. Mostly when I'm stopped at said lights, but so as not to lose my place, I drive with the paper in one hand, in my lap, where it sometimes flops over the steering wheel. This is how I arrive most mornings.

I work in a building without a parking lot, and frequently chat with the guy at the block-away lot whom I pay each morning to watch over my car. Mostly, it's just a good morning, but sometimes we wish each other happy weekends or talk about traffic. Or he warns me that I really should get up early enough to take the bus because there's some concert or game and the cost of the parking lot will go up tremendously the next day. I like him very much for giving me these warnings. We also occasionally laugh at the other drivers who slip on the ice when they get out of their cars. But that's just because people falling is funny, as long as they aren't hurt and they aren't you.

But this morning, I was a little nervous. You see, I was going to be on the radio to discuss a story I had written. And while I knew what there was to know about my story, I wanted to be well-informed about the stories the other guests were discussing, too. So while the paper was on my lap as I drove in, I was not reading it so as not to clutter my mind with information that would not be useful for on-the-air.

Of course, then, it's today that parking lot man chooses to tell me: "I love how you're always reading the paper."

I laughed, and told him it was the only time I had a chance. And wished him a good day.

It eased my pre-radio jitters.

Orange you glad?

I was walking into work yesterday when a guy holding his lunch passed me -- a container of pasta in his left hand, an orange in his right.

And as he walked, he tossed the orange up and down, again and again, into the air and back to his hand.

It looked so effortless. I would have dropped the orange.

You got the right one, baby

Someone had drawn a large winking smiley face, in red marker, on the back of a Pepsi truck I drove past the other day.

I'm a Coke loyalist, but it was still pretty cool.