Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...
"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..." Charles Mudede

Nick Allard, KIRO 7's meteorologist, believes “there is a better chance (right now) for morning snow” in the Seattle area on Monday, December 6. The snow, however, will likely turn into that ordinary stuff we call rain by the end of the day. But snow or no, expect some pretty cold days to come our way.

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Governor Jay Inslee hopes that the "severe flooding in recent weeks in the northern counties of Washington state" will be a wake up call about climate change. It will, sadly, not be. There will be more floods, more destruction, and more people driving massive, gas-guzzling pickup trucks.

Bollard to dumb-ass pickup truck: Not happening.

Also missing with Mayor Jenny Durkan's texts is the report about her missing texts. Seattle Times has this story.

And how is Shi Shi the adorable turtle doing? Apparently improving in mood and health. The turtle, which was near death when discovered on "Shi Shi beach (pronounced Shy Shy)", is on the up and up, reports Lynda V. Mapes.

Not far in the future, those on the Link train between Bellevue and Seattle will see in the north-facing windows Lake Washington in a ring of urban cores: the towers of Seattle, the towers of the University District, and the towers of Bellevue. In that future, which has passed the point of the adjacent possible, Bellevue will have a 25-story tower owned by Skanska. The Puget Sound Business Journal has the story about the tower that's already in our time.

Here is something I did not know, and I'm not sure quite what to make of it. But the PI claims that Seattle is in the middle of a fried chicken bubble. Naomi Tomky writes: "In the last few weeks, Seattle’s fried chicken selection expanded with three exciting new offerings featuring influences from around the world."

She sang, she really felt it, she tried to destroy America's democracy on Jan 6, 2021. Her name is, yes, Lisa Homer, a "former Yakima County Commissioner candidate". Homer was arrested a week ago in Colorado Springs.

Florida Governor Ron DeSantis wants his own damn army. It will be called "the Florida State Guard"; it will not be "encumbered by the federal government." Floridians need to fight for the right to die from COVID.

According to data gathered by the Washington Post, "there have been more school shootings in 2021 — 34 — than in any year since at least 1999."

The job report for November is not impressing anyone. But the unemployment rate did drop to a pandemic low of 4.2%.

Nancy Pelosi thinks the Supreme Court has a poor understanding about "that thing, that thing, that thiiiiiiinnng." You know what mean? No? Really? It's, you know, "the birds and the bees". The 52nd Speaker of the House says the highest court in the land should learn a thing or two about it.

Pelosi:

“Sometimes, I think they need a... session in birds and the bees for some of the kinds of statements that they make. I say that as a mother of five — six years and one week, five children … as I say to my colleague, when you have five children in six years and one week, we can discuss this issue.”

I love it when she's cold like that.

The future is fast running out of ideas:



Because the fine people at Haymarket Books reminded me of Gwendolyn Brooks's death, which happened on December 3, 2000.

We real cool. We

Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

Indeed, Christmas time is here:

Anyone who is familiar with the final paragraph of James Joyce's marvelous Christmas story "The Dead" will instantly see how much it influenced the opening of my 2017 post "The Unlikely Story of Vince Guaraldi's A Charlie Brown Christmas":

I think it's one of the most beautiful pieces of jazz ever composed. Listening to it is like watching snow through a window. The room is warm, something is roasting in the oven, and outside the flakes are falling faintly through the universe and upon the trees, the hedges, the rain gutters, the telephone poles, and the rooftops of a thousand apartment buildings in a very big city. This is where you want to be forever. This is Vince Guaraldi's "Christmas Time Is Here." It opens with a trembling bass, like someone coming out of the cold, stamping their feet, brushing the snow off their shoulders, hanging up their winter coat, rubbing and blowing on numb fingers, and entering the living room where there is a window for watching the flakes falling faintly upon all the buildings of the living.