Snow and Danger in March

Yep, it's Friday afternoon and it's snowing as I type this post. I can't really blame this on climate change. It's not unusual for the Midwest to get snow into March and April. However, these aren't flakes, but clumps, which usually means the falling snow won't last long.

The danger part is unusual. I'll be heading down to West Virginia to check on my cousin at the end of the month. From there, I'll drive down to DC to see my sister, then spend a week in North Carolina visiting friends.

That's where it gets weird. Nearly every friend has extolled me to be super careful driving through NC. They worry about me driving through the state as a woman alone.

I've done countless roadtrips by my lonesome. I've been to NC by myself before, and never worried.

But this time? Yeah, I'm taking their warnings seriously.

It's nothing personally against NC.  It's because of my last trip back in October to see my cousin.

Depending on the route I take, I drive through small sections of Pennsylvania and Maryland in addition to Ohio and WV. In October, I had just passed through Delaware, Ohio, on my way home. But that time I was driving GK's Challenger because my car was in the shop for repairs (I had been sideswiped by a teenager in town).

Anyway, a couple of guys in a pickup swerved into my lane. No biggie, right? Except they tried to run me off the road two more times. I looked over, and the men were laughing. At me. And the sun was setting.

There's a long stretch of fairly straight road before we reached the U.S. 30 interchange. No one else was around us except for some traffic a mile behind us. The pickup started to swerve again. So, I punched the accelerator.

Now, I'm usually very careful about my speed between Delaware and home because Ohio state troopers patrol pretty heavily along this highway.

I could hear the pickup's engine above the growl of the Challenger. These guys were actually trying to chase me. Any ticket would be worth getting away from these jerks.

Except the chase lasted less than 30 seconds. A horrendous noise came from the pickup. If you've ever heard an engine throw a rod, you know what I'm talking about.

I kept going, glancing in my rearview mirror until they were out of sight. Only then did I feel safe enough to slow down. I look at the speedometer. I was going well over a hundred. I took my foot off the accelerator until I reached the speed limit.

I'm thankful I was okay. I'm thankful no one else was on that stretch of highway who might have been hurt. And I believe karma stepped in that night.

So, yeah, it's not just the people in NC I need to watch out for. I honestly don't get why people get their kicks from terrorizing, or attempting to terrorize total strangers.

However, DH installed a dashcam on my car in case I run into more careless or crazy drivers. The video is automatically sent to DH's phone, so no matter what happens, he'll know about it.

Cameras are everywhere these days, kids. You can't get away with stuff anymore unless you're a billionaire asshole.

A Day Off That Wasn't

I didn't get my post written yesterday. There was too much going on. Lot's of stuff that needed to be taken care of before the end of the month like the car registration, the AAA membership, dog supplies, etc.

I'm glad I did get everything done because it's snowing right now. Has been for the last two hours. It's hard to believe it was 82 degrees five days ago. The ground is too warm for the flakes to stick, but they're lining the edges of the raised flower beds and the branches of the tiny evergreen trees along our patio.

Halloween itself is quiet. The town's trick-or-treating was Saturday night, so the streets are still now that everyone's home from school and work.

Tomorrow, I'll hit the grocery store, stock up on some chocolate, and start on my NaNoWriMo story. And in between sessions, I'll work on cleaning the house since GK and the Grandpuppy will be here sometime on Sunday.

So for now, I'll enjoy the quiet and the snow.

Happy Halloween!

Dry Powder and Black Ice

There was a nasty three-car pile up near us last night. At the intersection of the township road our neighborhood sits on and a U.S. highway, the slush of treated snow turned to black ice. It didn't help that according to witnesses, one vehicle in particular was speeding and darting around other cars and trucks in a no-passing zone.

Yesterday's snow was dry powder. The kind that's good for skiing, I'm told. It's been blowing off the roof as the wind pick up this afternoon. We'll see how much more snow we'll get and what kind. The predictions have been all over the place.

Why am I talking about winter issues? Because the publishing industry is fracturing to the point where I'm not sure what's going to happen next. If anyone tells you they do, that person is lying their ass off.

The first lawsuits have been filed in regards to using artificial intelligence for creative endeavors. Where once creators were clawing back their right by tooth and nail, or sometimes even by lawsuits, artists are now selling their entire catalogs. Justin Bieber was the latest, though the one who surprised me was The Boss. Apparently, not even Bruce Springsteen could pass up a quarter of a billion bucks. (And no, that "B" as in billion is not a typo.)

I'm exploring the possibilities of expanding merchandise related to my books, from t-shirts to Tarot cards. It would mean setting up an online store. It may mean finally hiring an assistant. I could keep Angry Sheep Publishing a small one-person business, but even DH thinks I need to focus on the creative aspects and have someone else help handle the day-to-day functions.

Of course, he volunteered. However, he's still dealing with his dad's estate while working a full-time job. And we're not sure if/when he can leave a regular job because of the legislative threats to Medicare and Social Security.

With that lovely set of concerns, I can see why a seventy-three-year-old Bruce Springsteen sold his entire catalogue. How else is he going to pay for his and his wife's care for the next twenty or so years?