Emily Anderson was here for about 24 hours, starting Friday night; she, Maria and I made pancakes, watched movies, and generally mocked my sexuality. A good time was had, mostly. (They made me wear a pink fuzzy hat and sunglasses. They called me “Elton.”)

Seriously, it was really good to see her, and we did have enormous fun. I found out I’m a deity of some sort, I guess: this morning Maria was unhappy about the gloomy no-fun weather outside, so she turned to me for help.

“Brendan,” she complained, “make it snow!”

I turned in the direction of the balcony and ordered, in as grand a tone as I could produce, “Snow.”

It started five minutes later. I’m not really sure how to turn it off.