Report from Foggy Top

Here we are, a day after my whining about the snow and ice, with clear roads (and decks and steps). We can’t see much of them for the fog, but unless you were planning to spend the weekend skiing, it’s probably an improvement. I’ve been thinking of foggy things all day.  Sandburg’s fog infiltrating Chicago on “little cat feet” and “Foggy Day in London Town” and “Foggy Bottom” . . . .

I spent my high school years in Washington (DC) obsessing over politics and history and listening to news programs.  They all referred to the State Department as “Foggy Bottom.”   That is such a good name for State that we don’t even have to discuss the matter, but years later I learned it also referred to the historic neighborhood near Georgetown where it was located.  I loved Georgetown and spent every moment I could there.  It used to be a lot more fun than it is now.  Most things did. 

So here I am wandering around in the fog of memory.  At least for today, this little bluff above the Bay has become Foggy Top and I hope I can see to get home tonight.