Here it is, our 25^th wedding anniversary, and my plans are all swirling down the toilet. She works in Crookston, while I'm down here in Morris, 165 miles away; jobs are thin on the ground here in the under-populated upper midwest, so you take 'em where you can get 'em. I'd thought I could get away today and drive up north, but no—this is March in Minnesota. It's clear right now, but there are weather advisories up for the afternoon, and we've got a substantial storm predicted for tomorrow evening and Friday. I might be able to duck and dodge my way between snowfalls, but it's probably best not to risk giving my wife the anniversary present of an unpleasant call from the highway patrol.

So it looks like our anniversary is going to involve more lonely nights apart.

Oh, well.

The goofy dork in that last picture should have known it wasn't going to all be happy frolics and snuggly-wugglies.

Damn academia.