I posted pictures of my baking enterprises and the plethora of cooling racks inspired raleighdon to say I was ready for serious fonging.

The urban dictionary had several definitions, most of them negative and even violent – but I suppose those were the East Coast interpretations of a perfectly good nonsense syllable. Further down, I found a description involving oven racks and twine and fingers in the ears.  Fonging for the soul, indeed…

… and if I’m still iced in tomorrow, I just might resort to it.  Happily I’ve only heard one POP that was probably a limb breaking off, but there are icicles everywhere, with a good half an inch or so of rain on top rendering things beyond slippery.  Deer guts on a doorknob has nothing o nthis stuff.  Fortunately it’s a couple of degrees warmer than the forecast, just above freezing, but the hour-by-hour has it going from raining and 35 at noon to windy and 28 and then a low of 11… p’raps skating to chuch woudl be the wiser option.

One response to “Fonging

  1. I believe it was the winter of ’69 when we had an ice storm that deposited ice so thick I ice skated to the neighbors house.
    The neighbor lived a mile away.
    On a gravel road.

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