In Like a Lion

So I had a three-day hiatus on life while a sinus infection decided to wreak havoc on my eyes. I make my living by my eyes. Proofreading is pretty stinkin' hard without them. So, when they don't work, I don't work.

And while I hid under the covers for a few days so that my vampirically light-sensitive eyes would stop trying to stab my brain, Utah's bipolar weather decided it wanted to dump a butt-load of snow (which, according to the OED, is an actual measurement amounting to about 450 gallons, so yes, I probably used it correctly) on Bountiful. But apparently, it also decided to rain beforehand, so everything is coated with ice under the snow.

Normally, I pretty much trust the UTA bus drivers. I figure they're doing it for a living, so they probably know what they're doing. And for the most part, none of them have given me cause for alarm (although some of the drivers with a brick-like brake-foot make me feel a little sick from time to time). But the bus was pretty much sliding up to every stop this morning and I think my nails may have left permanent marks in the leather handle of my purse.

On a slightly related note, I feel a little bad for the little flower sprouts I've been watching grow every evening when I walk up the hill to my house. They peeked out of the dirt a couple of weeks ago and I thought, "Oh, poor suckers. It's only February." Sure enough, a mini-blizzard later, and those flowers are no more. So I took a moral lesson from the flowers. Getting a jump-start on things early doesn't always mean that they work out. The weather may decide to throw a giant monkey wrench (or a butt-load of snow) in your plans and you have to start over.

Oh hey, that sounds a little familiar. Kind of like my life, actually. You get this slight warm spell and start to bloom and really go places. Then something big and kind of crappy blows in and delays everything. So you have to start over.

Luckily, I have a few things that make for a silver lining: 1.) Snow is beautiful. So is life in all its messiness. 2.) March comes in like a lion, goes out like a lamb. In a metaphorical sense, I'm really counting on that phrase. 3.) Some plants, like the hardy, persistent Lilies of the Valley I first saw a week ago, are tough enough to take the snow, look pretty while covered in it, and still be hearty and hale when the snow melts.

I'd like to be a tough flower like that. Minus the "if you eat me you die" component of those particular flowers.

It may be snowing now, but spring always comes. Even if it's a little late.