Baltimore: the city that sleeps

I shouldn't complain, really. Eska and I are both nordic creatures accustomed to the cold (and everything that comes with it) and highly expectant that most other places exposed to it even minimally know how to deal with it. Back when I still lived in Quebec, knowing about an overnight freeze meant waking up 15-20 minutes earlier than usual the next day and salting (and often also sanding) your stairs and the stretch of sidewalk connected to your property. It was just common sense. In Baltimore and despite the increased potential for lawsuit (rampant nationwide, and filed for any and every offense), it means sleeping in until the one responsible guy on your block who probably has kids and a real job takes care of his property and yours because, with five mouths to feed, he can't afford to fall and break a leg on the way to his car up the street.

Still, I thought that by 8.40, most people even lacking conscience would have the obligation to be up, heading to work, scratching the ice off their car windows, and all the rest.

It took Eska and me 20 minutes to walk a stretch it normally takes us the better part of 7 to reach; I cut our walk short. She wasn't particularly happy with me, but Hopkins won't pay the bill for a severed limb - mine or hers.