Midweek morning.
So far, it’s been a decent day… if you overlook the fact that it was only 50° or so when I woke up. And… AND… there was SNOW on the mountain tops, to boot! Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?!?! *sigh* Almost five years here behind the Zion Curtain and I still don’t fully grok the weather here. I’m actually rather partial to the weather control ideas in Camelot:

It’s true! It’s true! The crown has made it clear.
The climate must be perfect all the year.

A law was made a distant moon ago here:
July and August cannot be too hot.
And there’s a legal limit to the snow here
In Camelot.
The winter is forbidden till December
And exits March the second on the dot.
By order, summer lingers through September
In Camelot.
Camelot! Camelot!
I know it sounds a bit bizarre,
But in Camelot, Camelot
That’s how conditions are.
The rain may never fall till after sundown.
By eight, the morning fog must disappear.
In short, there’s simply not
A more congenial spot
For happily-ever-aftering than here
In Camelot.

Camelot! Camelot!
I know it gives a person pause,
But in Camelot, Camelot
Those are the legal laws.
The snow may never slush upon the hillside.
By nine p.m. the moonlight must appear.
In short, there’s simply not
A more congenial spot
For happily-ever-aftering than here
In Camelot.

Now all that I need to do is find a lady (who just happens to live in a lake) wielding a magic sword and I’m set…

Other than that, things proceed apace.

And I’m one day closer to seeing my mother.
And getting out of SLC.
Two birds; one stone.