Et tu, my dear, et tu. And as not only a native of lovely Illinois, but one fortunate enough to be provided with cold-weather gear, as it were, always at the ready . . . how could I not love winter?
I protest! Snow is perfectly natural. When you drop water particles through the coldness of the uperatomsphere (and be glad you're down here, not up there) it freezes, forming delecate crystal structure and acumulating the way rain would if it couldn't run off in the streets. Basic chemistry.
Well, couldn't you have amonium snowball fights on Europa (presuming you could breath, and the lack of gravity didn't bug you too much)? Or was it Titan? It's been too long since we've gone over any real astronomy.
It's a matter of the state boundary between liquid and solid, actually; if you had a blast furnace, were fireproof, and had a very strong grip, you might conceivably be able to make plutonium snowballs, but I'd be careful of reaching critical mass. I had a link to an essay on the subject somewhere.
Absolutely. Science is an exacting mistress, and demands proper attention to every last little detail. I foresee numerous trial throws.
Of course, we couldn't possibly ask Lorna to subject herself to such an ordeal simply out of the goodness of her heart, could we? Why, that would be downright cruel. I think we simply must locate a stand-in for the poor girl. Experimental ethics demand it.
. . . Why, Alison, you're close to her size, aren't you? Certainly close enough for ballpark figures, I'd say . . .
I can't WAIT! Someone needs to find Ororo and nag her about HUGE snowbanks! Lots of light fluffy snow! At least one that should be oh, I don't know... ten feet high? She could do that easily, after all. And Lorna should watch, to observe landing techniques and all!!!
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You know... if we got Ororo to do a snowbank about of, six feet high minimum, on the west side, near the balcony with the bay windows. Someone could, theoretically, race down the hallway and jump out.
Have I said lately how much I like the way you think?
You get to help me dry my fur tomorrow evening, however, as the price of the piggyback ride. And one of us should really bring this to her attention somewhere other than buried in the throng of comments here. We did get a bit carried away today, didn't we? :)
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Just let me know when you'd like her catapulted, and how far.
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Kathrine Rebecca Pryde.
:D
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This is, incidentally, the only planet in the solar system where snowball fights are possible. Aren't we lucky?
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Aren't there ice caps on Mars? Couldn't you have a snowball fight there?
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Sorry, if I help you, they'll come for me next. In fact, I think I can hear them already.
*runs*
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Ok. On my way up. If Alex is willing to help us with Lorna I'm sure he'll help us with you.
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*hides*
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Now. We may need to experiment a bit. Taking wind factor in consideration, and all that stuff. ;)
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Of course, we couldn't possibly ask Lorna to subject herself to such an ordeal simply out of the goodness of her heart, could we? Why, that would be downright cruel. I think we simply must locate a stand-in for the poor girl. Experimental ethics demand it.
. . . Why, Alison, you're close to her size, aren't you? Certainly close enough for ballpark figures, I'd say . . .
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YES! :D
Oh, I most certainly volunteer for this. We can only have the most perfect snow bank toss for my roomie, after all! >:D
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You know... if we got Ororo to do a snowbank about of, six feet high minimum, on the west side, near the balcony with the bay windows. Someone could, theoretically, race down the hallway and jump out.
(I have first dibs on piggy rides for that!)
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You get to help me dry my fur tomorrow evening, however, as the price of the piggyback ride. And one of us should really bring this to her attention somewhere other than buried in the throng of comments here. We did get a bit carried away today, didn't we? :)
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