Half an hour later, there was real snow which clung to branches and pine needles, grass blades and early flowers, rooftops and bare earth, but which quickly melted from the pavement, making the asphalt as glassy as black marble. Nothing was entirely white, but all the color showing through the frosted landscape was muted. There was thunder, too, though I saw no flashes of lightning. It was incredibly cold. The snow lasted little more than an hour, and evening brought a faint hint of pink to a few patches of clouds, and a bit of powdery blue sky briefly appeared before darkness fell. I don't know if it will clear at all tonight, but if it does then the cold will be bone chilling. To my surprise, the frogs continue to croak. What a very strange day it was.
Other than that:
Sandra Day O'Connor goes for Tom DeLay's throat. But only in the most ladylike way, of course, not mentioning him by name (because that would be so rude.)
I didn't link to it in my morning post because I wanted to see if it gave me nightmares. It didn't, so I'll link to it now with the warning that, nightmares or not, it still creeps me out. It's a recent picture of (merely) 51 year old Eddie Van Halen posted at Flickr by