Yesterday, I managed to drag myself all the way up to Coventry. Normally it's an easy mile or so uphill, not so bad. Post-blizzard, however, it was a different story. The sidewalks were shoveled only as far as the Mayfield entrance to Lakeview cemetary. After that, a well-trodden path quickly gave way to occasional footprints sunk into snow more than knee deep, with drifts well past my shoulder. I ended things walking down the shoulder of the road, which--though perilous--was at least plowed.
The point of the post, however, is not the hierarchy that becomes fairly evident when Cleveland gets snowed under.
While I was up at the library, dropping off my packfull of tomes, I noticed a booksale in full swing over near the children's section.
Besides some very old guides to hostels in France, and a few out-dated issues of the farmer's almanac, almost every book in that bin was by L. Ron Hubbard. Probably every copy that the Cleveland Public Library system owned.
I do believe in coincidences. That, however, is far too timely to be simply a coincidence.
Which of course makes me happy. :)
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