when i left this morning there were five new inches of snow, and fog as thick as pea soup. i only have to go down two blocks to the highway, unplowed, but the highway is usually plowed and it's usually pretty well beet-heated all the way down past the snow line which was at about 5800 feet (?). my commute is roughly a mile straight down; up here at 9000 feet there's not only fog, but also heavy wind, and the five inches of snow that was added onto what was already there. the pine trees were gorgeous, all weighed down in the fog. but the road was clear right down to the tunnel and beyond. we consider the tunnel about halfway. beyond that, it's dry as a bone, usually, and very little snow. the trouble starts on this side of the tunnel.

did some more playing here and played banjo too. wrote poetry. this is partly because work is becoming easier (once they have tested you, they're ok kids), and because very little creativity is involved, as long as i'm babysitting, as opposed to actually teaching. i'm hanging around down the hill, watching the clouds swirl up on the mountain, as the whole town down there has stunning views of these very mountains - but, they have no traffic issues, no "stuck on the hill" mentality, no concept of the snow-ice combination that can make our very descent treacherous. i can call in, sure, citing the weather. but i don't want to, because they don't really believe that it's as bad as it is. they only come up here in the good weather, with the exception of those who work up here and come up regularly. in my entire school, i haven't met anyone from cloudcroft, and only one from even halfway up the mountain. they are familiar with it, recognize it as part of their environment, see the weather warnings on their television. but know it, i don't think so.

the puppy settles in on my lap after a while so i do all my typing on the arm of the chair in a somewhat twisted position. i can play pop art in this position and can do bog, though not well, and i'm kind of sick of bog, though i got sixth place by myself once today, somewhat unusual. the puppy pretends to take a nap and gets lots of petting in his thick white overgrown fur. outside the wind howls but the fog continues, and it's snowed a little more tonight although that is negligible i think. we check the weather forecasts but they change a lot; i can't see how they know from minute to minute, even, what's going to happen, so i don't blame them. but i check a lot. at six thirty in the morning, i'm on my way back down.

people are used to it here. and they come to prefer staying up on the hill, if they can. you can see why. it's all very dramatic, that mile drop down to get groceries, or work, or whatever, but after a while, there's only so much drama anyone really wants. and they're tearing up the road, not only toward the bottom, where they're widening a little, by ripping out part of the cliff, but also further up, above the tunnel, where apparently a piece of road just gave way. gave way, because of rains and snows and whatever. the weather does it. or maybe the beet-heat does it. it's a rough life, and you have to keep at it.