I yanked something in my lower back yesterday. The primary trigger was either my exercise class or snow shoveling, but the push-it-over-the-edge trigger was picking up the cat . . .  a classic example of me. Whatever the root reason, I am hobbling a bit. I did manage to do round 2 of the shoveling, and I plan to try out my exercise class this morning so I can figure out what is good and bad for me. It's definitely one of those injuries that stiffens up and feels worse when I do nothing. After a night in bed I resemble a 95-year-old, but activity is helping already, and thus I wince and bumble up and down the stairs and slowly get my chores done.

Meanwhile, Tom had a dental procedure yesterday and was goofy and numb. We make an elegant couple.

Portland has another weather event on the way this evening, and it's supposed to be hideous: snow turning quickly to freezing rain and then to straight rain, ruinous for our sweet snowpack. I guess I should take an editing break and get to the grocery store before it begins.

I've started reading War and Peace in the Pevear-Volokhonsky translation. To this point, I've always read the old 1904 Constance Garnett translation, so I'm a little nervous as I hate change when it comes to my touchstone books. But so far, so good.

Otherwise this week: class planning looms, as does the perpetual housework. I bought three tickets to the Joffrey Ballet, something to look forward to when I visit my Chicago son in March. And here's a photo of yesterday's sunset from the top of the new World Trade Center, courtesy of my New York City son.

The world is an amazing place.