Pellets
I don't like the word 'pellets' I told my friend Aleea today. It reminds me of goats. She gave me an odd look, which was my own fault I suppose, because I didn't care to explain why it reminds of goats.
We used to slaughter goats in our yard in Nagpur, India, often for religious ceremonies and generally to inflict psychological trauma on any little children who happened to be within a half-mile radius of the gore. The goats were brought up in cycle-rickshaws, fed a little and then given some water. Sometimes they'd let little pellets fall out their backside, but more often after the animal was killed, the butcher would slice it open from the anus (don't ask why from there, I reckon doing that cleared his head or something) and little blackish pellets would fall out, plop plop, onto the ground.
That's why I wasn't too happy when little white pellets of hail hit my face today as Aleea and I walked down (quite briskly) to the 9 'o' clock lecture in the med school this morning. The snowing began last night and this morning I woke up to see white on the rooftops, the road, the cars, the everything. I know people think it's really 'pretty' and 'beautiful' and that but I don't particularly like snow, probably because I know I have to walk through a mile of it to get to the med school and I prefer treading on solid ground thankyouverymuch.
It snowed all day today. The poor sun was badgered into hiding behind some clouds while a blizzard raged outside the library's windows.
And then I walked back home in the post-storm mud-slush mix on the sidewalk.
I just want this week to be over.
"Blue touches blue touches gray touches brown
I look down at my feet, they've been with me for years.."
-- Achinoam Nini, Blue touches Blue
We used to slaughter goats in our yard in Nagpur, India, often for religious ceremonies and generally to inflict psychological trauma on any little children who happened to be within a half-mile radius of the gore. The goats were brought up in cycle-rickshaws, fed a little and then given some water. Sometimes they'd let little pellets fall out their backside, but more often after the animal was killed, the butcher would slice it open from the anus (don't ask why from there, I reckon doing that cleared his head or something) and little blackish pellets would fall out, plop plop, onto the ground.
That's why I wasn't too happy when little white pellets of hail hit my face today as Aleea and I walked down (quite briskly) to the 9 'o' clock lecture in the med school this morning. The snowing began last night and this morning I woke up to see white on the rooftops, the road, the cars, the everything. I know people think it's really 'pretty' and 'beautiful' and that but I don't particularly like snow, probably because I know I have to walk through a mile of it to get to the med school and I prefer treading on solid ground thankyouverymuch.
It snowed all day today. The poor sun was badgered into hiding behind some clouds while a blizzard raged outside the library's windows.
And then I walked back home in the post-storm mud-slush mix on the sidewalk.
I just want this week to be over.
"Blue touches blue touches gray touches brown
I look down at my feet, they've been with me for years.."
-- Achinoam Nini, Blue touches Blue