Currently our backyard looks like this, which in my opinion is quite pleasant-- but the way people were flailing around yesterday you'd think they were preparing for Armageddon. All of the bread and water in town is long gone, of course. One of Matt's coworkers went to the store yesterday and saw a woman buying fifteen (15) dozen eggs. Pardon me, ma'am: are you high? I'm willing to allow that she might have been throwing some sort of Snow Day Omelette Party, but I wouldn't put it past a random Georgian to freak out to that extent. It happens every goddamn time.

In any case it should be a quiet, peaceful weekend, and that's alright with me.