Walk bike out into snowy landscape, because at least there's sunlight and sufficient linear distance out there. Find place to prop bike. Notice huge, horrible, yellow-of-the-soul-of-evil-mustard "ATM inside" sign in background. Move bike. Take pictures of bike. Bring bike back inside. Notice, lo!, no memory card in camera. Curse stupidity of self. Wait 20 minutes for snow to melt off tires. Place memory card in camera. Repeat. Aoife gets bikkets twice; is now curled up emanating feline pleased-with-universe feelings.
an inescapable ritual necessity; when I come home, she gets treats. She sees no reason there should be any kind of time limit related to how long I'm out of the apartment for, or why; opening the outside door in an arriving sort of way means treats.