As the temperature rises, the ice thins. And as the ice gets thinner and thinner, skating for me seems to be more and more out of the question again. Too bad, like I was really looking forward to making a fool of myself. As I sit here in the early morning, there is this regular crack, crackle and then a loud explosion. Blocks and thick slabs of ice loosen, slip and then fall off from the house. The sides, the windows and the roof. Sometimes these frozen pieces fall to the concrete patio steps. They crash like some giant expensive vase which has fallen off of the roof and shattered into a million pieces. Like shards of glass. Other slabs fall off to the side onto the softer dirt with this thud that sound like a unconscious human body pounding the ground with intensity. I look out the window, and by the end of the morning I can see a whole array of differing shapes of ice which have scattered all over the place. This is a weird but amazing site to see. A miracle you might say. As if nature is coming alive and spitting out shimmering crystals it cannot digest. Motion in an otherwise cold and motionless world. Crack and kaboom! There goes another one. Each time it happens, the sudden noise scares me out of my wits. Even though it has been happening all morning, and I should be getting used to it by now. It is just the cascading vibrations and the bizarre cacophony of sound that trigger some hidden demon inside of me. Whose purpose is to shake me awake so that I will not forget. Never forget or else. Will I be saved from the frightening prospect of having to skate or not?
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Graduated from Stanford 6-5-1979 ago.
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First met Thea in Balestrand, Norway 6-14-1980 ago.