I am back in Seattle. It took 36 hours to accomplish this. The weather on the East Coast was so bad that flights kept getting canceled, or delayed past the point of making connections. Whole airports were filled with people stuck in cities they did not want to be in. On one of the planes I was supposed to take, the gate agent announced that ice had formed not only on the wings, which was expected, but "behind the engine," which apparently was not. More de-icing machines were sent for. Mechanics were sent for. It was impossible to rebook through Chicago. The temperature outside was ten degrees Fahrenheit. Snow fell, and still continues to fall, on the just and the unjust and the merely disgruntled.
This is the weekend my real estate agent is holding an open house to market my house.
I can't imagine that anyone will show up. If they do, I can't imagine them wishing to purchase a house located in what looks like the Siberian tundra. But, on the other hand, I bought the house in January seven years ago. So keep your fingers crossed for me.