Puddles iced over in kalakala gravel parking lot, instead of work we huddled in the baitlocker, two hands wrapped around steaming strong coffee in just-washed cups (first time in months), bill showed us his art, monoprints in battered frames, tiny gouaches of oregon republicans, azur arrived after emergency room wakeup (housemate bitten breaking up a dogfight) and trip to the vet, too cold to forge steel so we went to voula's for our earliest and least-earned lunch ever. Left after that, picked up photographs and sarah's paintings from the foundry Gallery 154, visited her studio briefly, got home, decided, HELL, IT'S SNOWING so walked back down the hill, tossed stones at her wall to get her attention (use big rocks and aim for the wall instead of tiny ones plinking the window, suggested the parking lot attendant--and he was right!) and off we walked to Mike's Chili in Ballard, warming our hands with a shortcut through Fred Meyer where a motorcycle cop held her helmet as she stood in a chute paying for food. I asked about Mike's PLEH DETNAW sign (seen reversed through the window from where we sat by Husky-purple pool table in a highbacked booth for two) but in an old place like that they'd settle for no less than a day waitress. We discovered Cash and Carry (they accept credit cards) walking home in the dark, bought a diner-style napkin dispenser and chocolate morsels we poured into 4-lb. peanut butter jar and ate with our fingers, cold clear night with an "is-it-full-yet?-hard-to-tell..." moon, we ran away with the spoon to trapeze studio wednesday night draw where even cold and snow couldn't shake the end-of-winter feeling.