This weekend's world was a veritable ice castle, with the whole landscape covered in deep snow and a thick layer of solid ice. The trees around my little woodsy home were collapsing under the weight, and I took cover in my kindly neighbors' house. Had this been the three little pigs, my home would be made of straw and theirs of brick (not too far from reality). We awoke to the sound of another tree falling and looked out the window to see it lying just several feet away. A few minutes later the great Doug Fir that added extra allure to my front porch was uprooted and barely missed crushing my living room during it's descent. There was no time for crying over the dahlia and narcissus bed planted around it, since chainsaws were going and it was time to help clean up. In the hours when the chainsaws had died down, I got to explore and was enamored with a 48 hour world of ice that seemed to freeze the whole year in it's glassy claws. Then it was back home to nurse my new frostbite.