While some say the blizzard comes, and some say no, the Babe ventures out onto the front porch -- shoveled not long before by the Tuckman but now quickly reaccumulating more snow (left) -- and then ventures off the deep end (right). Meanwhile, at Blizzard Central, Barry gets us up to speed:
Amen. And as I put on a pot of decaf (having had my caffeine quota for the day already) and plan on how to defend my breakfast of soft-boiled eggs (the perfect nosh for a guy with stitches in his mouth) from the quadrupeds, all of whom love anything eggy, and as the storm howls outside, I'm thankful for the blessings of food, and shelter, and the love of all the mammals I live with.
Update: While Men reckon what it did, and meant, be sure to check out Modulator's Friday Ark for all things bright and beautiful. Not to mention the 99th Carnival of the Cats at Watermark, who declares "My cats and I are against racism in any form." We guess you'd have to ask the cats what the meaning of race is. Mice come to mind.