You may recall that earlier I mentioned how Neil Gaiman's approach to writing had warmed my heart and gave me hope regarding my own style in that regard. Well, two things that he posted on his blog very recently made me feel an even stronger affinity for him. First there's this:
"Back in England I used to puzzle over my (American) wife's tendency to believe in weather forecasts, and to act on whatever information she was given, because the weather in the British Isles does whatever it's going to do with no regard to or respect for weather forecasters, and mostly what they tell you you can also learn by looking out of the window. I don't think I'll ever get used to the American system of more or less functional weather forecasting (much of which seems to consist of seeing what the weather was doing yesterday to the West of you)."
Think about it: not only am I a non-American (like him) with an American wife (like him), but I've also got a very similar impression of weather forecasts in these parts - just look to the West and expect it's heading this way. Certainly my devotion to the Environment Canada Radar during biking season has lead me to validate this belief most days.
But the one that really made my day was this:
"If it's any consolation, I also had to do a fair amount of snow-shovelling yesterday, most of it while being harassed by Fred the cat, who seemed to think it was my fault too."
Neil Gaiman. Shovels. His own snow! He doesn't have a snowblower, or an assistant who does it for him, or anything else I might've imagined long before I'd ever have pictured him outside his house - all dressed in black, of course - heaving piles of the white stuff this way and that! The image nearly boggles my mind!
It's like we're soul brothers, really, when you get right down to it!
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