Sunday morning, six AM

After the snow and the below freezing temperatures, a layer of warm, wet air has slipped rolled over the top of our dry cold air layer. This results in freezing rain. No one is going anywhere today unless it's absolutely necessary, because the whole world is covered wit about a quarter of an inch of ice. it's ugly for trying to get around, but it's beautiful to look at. Here's our dogwood tree under the streetlightthis morning.





Yestereday, if I had been Matha Stewart, I would have gotten up bright and early, baked scones and a quiche from scratch, and my husband would have eaten it because, as Martha Stewart's husband, he would have no balls at all. After washing the dishes and leaving the kitchen spic and span with every pot in place and the hand-embroidered linen dishtowels meticulously draped on their antique drying rack, I would have disassembled, steam cleaned, and polished the cats before re-assembling them in apple-pie order. Then, when the domestic staff arrived, I would have them all wash the windows, inside and out, to admit that glorious Christmassy glow and glitter from our exquisite quarter-sized, electic village errected outside. Then, while they were all distracted, I would have sat down at my Chippendale desk and caligraphed graceful, sincere notes to go along with their Christmas bonuses, which I would tuck into envelopes hand made from re-cycled Christmas wrap. Then I would go fix a delicious hot oyster stew with home-made biscuits for lunch, and everyone would eat it and they would like it because I'm GOD!! Hahhahha!!! I benign dwpot of the universe and you will all . . .

Umm, yeah. As it is, I slept in, slopped around in my bathrobe till DH woke, and then we went to Sully's for breakfast as usual on a Saturday. We gave them presents. They gave us presents. It snowed. The geese were circling low, trying to find a nice green sppace to settle and graze in. There are no greenspaces. Everything is WHITE. DH and I envisioned goose bitterness. "Cindy said, 'oh, let's stay in Portland this winter. We don't have to fly all the way south. The slugs up here are the size of dog poops and the ponds never freeze. We'll be living on easy street.' Is this easy street, Cincy? Is it? We've gotta sit in the freakin' snow and my BUTT's cold! I'm wearing down-lined panties, and my butt - is - cold! And it's all your fault, Cindy." People at other tables were laughing at our vision.

Breakfast was, as ever, delicious. We drove home on the white streets, and as we turned into the grocery store parking lot, our SUV fishtailed a bit. As we picked up a few groceries to get us through the next week, we discussed weather and driving conditions and seasonal expectations and decided that it would be much better to avoid the idiots on the highway and do our shopping when things thaw.

So we went home, and DH killed demon cows, and I watched movies and spun for the entire afternoon. Martha Stewart would have gone insane! WE had soup for dinner and watched TV till bedtime. Gosh life is good!