Toby In A Nutshell.

Things That Toby Hates:

• When you hold onto his tail while he’s going downstairs.
• Carbonated beverages
• Hand sanitizer
• Spray bottles
• Chick peas (they sound and smell a lot like tuna, and he does NOT like being duped. It's undignified.)
• Other animals. (You either have to submit to them or kill them. There are no other options.)
• When somebody touches his paws.
• Mocking and taunting, particularly when it involves his ethnicity.
• When the humans sleep.
• The shower. A torture box.
• When he gets shut in the linen closet while taking a nap.
• The car. Because no good ever comes of getting in that.
• The vet. See above.
• Vacuum cleaners. Thinly disguised cat dismantlers.
• When a human is sleeping and they move. Very insensitive.
• When large black garbage bags get waved around to open them up. Too much like a visit from the Angel of Death.
• Canned cat food.
  

Things That Toby Loves:

• Tuna
• When the humans come home. Because they might give him tuna.
• Summer
• A box. Any box. Anything that looks like it might possibly be a box. Like coolers, backpacks, laundry baskets and grocery bags.
• The linen closet, but only when the door is open.
• The fuzzy blue pillow. It takes him back to his kittenhood, because he kneads and drools and purrs like a jet engine for an unseemly amount of time with that thing.
• When I sit down to the computer. Optimum time to convince me of his devotion.
• My earplugs.
• When I get up. Almost time for tuna!
• My singing. At least, I assume he loves that.
• A good scratching.
• When I change the bed linens.
• Helping me knit.
• Catnip.

A Whole New Meaning to "Mother Goose".

Last night the Things and I walked to the mall to get some bubble tea. (Thing 1 and I LOVE bubble tea, and are willing to walk to the mall on a winter's night to go and get some. Thing 2 does not drink bubble tea, but was pretty sure that if a parent was distributing money for treats, she was pretty sure to score some frozen yogurt if she came along for the ride, even if it did mean walking.)

On our way, I heard some Canadian geese flying above us, honking and tootling to beat the band. After a second or two, I remarked "Listen! Geese!", and Thing 2 turned to me, a bit wide-eyed, and said "Geese?!? I thought that was you singing!"

A Day Out of Town

This has been what Big Liver Girl calls "a treadmill week": I've been running like mad to keep up with everything, and I'm essentially in the same place where I started. Which is okay when you consider that the alternative is to have ended up in a tangled heap on the floor.

The Mister and I went to Toronto for a hair show last Monday. Hair shows are always fun; the shows themselves are always interesting and I come away feeling pumped and inspired about my job all over again, PLUS they have the added bonus of providing some of the most spectacular and entertaining people watching ever created. Seriously, I'd pay good money just to sit and watch the audience instead of whatever's going on up on stage. There was one young woman sitting close by who's cleavage was so impressively displayed in a clearly architecturally unsound bra that we were sure her breasts were going to jump out and say "howdy" at any minute. We saw a man who appeared to either part of some unseen Mardi Gras parade, or be auditioning for a role in "Liberace On Ice", because he was wearing some really weird shit for a Monday afternoon. And one of the guys up on stage actually doing the hair had the Mister and I in fits of giggles, because he was a dead ringer for Bilbo Baggins, and we kept making "Hobbit the Hairdresser" jokes.

We took the train to Toronto for the day, which meant that we had to be out the door at around 10 to 6 in the morning. That meant that breakfast was at around 5:30 or so, so you can imagine how enthusiastic we were about lunchtime when that rolled around. Honestly, we were so crazed with hunger by then we'd, as one of my cousins so eloquently put it, have eaten the legs off a low-flying duck. As we ate, the Mister remarked that we seemed to have Salman Rushdie as our waiter. (The Mister and I "see" celebrities everywhere. It's not unusual for one of us to tell the other that we saw Mikhail Gorbachav pumping gas that afternoon, or that Elizabeth Taylor was at the drycleaners. It amuses us no end.) That led to a whole lot of "he's been in a bit of a bad mood since the fatwa", and "maybe he's researching his next novel about being a Anglo-Indian waiter at post-colonial convention center banquet hall". We were highly entertained.

After the afternoon session, the Mister and I had a while before our train home, so we went and had some natchos and a beer (because we didn't have to drive!!) and I read my book and the Mister was able to snag some free wi-fi time and messed around on the internet and we managed to pass our free time in an incredibly civilized manner. Then we got the train home. There were two university guys in the seats behind us who spent the whole time on their cell phones negotiating with some other guy about editing their essays for them and getting them better marks. They wanted the editor to guarantee a particular grade increase, while he was clearly having none of it. He wanted a flat rate and they wanted a smaller rate, with a "per point" bonus, should he perform well. I couldn't help but want to suggest to them that perhaps they put this much effort into the essay itself, and maybe they wouldn't have to engage in such shenanigans at all. But I figured that was going to have to be a lesson that bitter experience, not I, was going to have to teach them.

Sometimes it's good to get up on that treadmill and shake things up a bit, even if I do risk ending up as heap on the floor.

Amazing Race 14, Ep. 2, Again

Many thanks to Thing 1 for taking over my blogging duties yesterday. The Mister and I went to a hair show in Toronto, which necessitated us getting up at 5 a.m. and getting home at 9:30 p.m. As much as I tried to type out the blog on the Mister's IPod Touch, I got a headache after the third or fourth stab at logging on to my website on that teeny-tiny screen, and abandoned the whole escapade before I had a stroke.

Just a few things to add to Thing 1's analysis of the Race:

• As much as I liked Steve and Linda, who seemed like very nice people, I was happy enough to see them go. Every time she wailed "he's going to hate me" it was like watching kittens drowning. I just couldn't bear seeing them go through this anymore.
• It's a good thing my brother and I aren't running this race, because we would still be there throwing pies at each other, because that is a life-long sibling wish, I don't care who you are. On the other hand, I would have real trouble throwing pies in my mother's face. That's just not right.
• the flight attendants have not been able to capitalize either on their looks or their extensive travelling experience yet, it would seem. Somehow I would have thought that their superiority in both would have prevented them from hauling around a large, random hunk of wood for what seemed like a very long time.
• "Your Target Is Your Partner's Face" is going on a t-shirt.

Amazing Race 14, Ep. 2

Hey everybody ! This is Thing 1 here ! And since my mom is out of town, I get to report on lasts nights episode of The Amazing Race !

This leg wasent bad, pretty intense I must say. I was really worried about The school of rock team. I like them alright. Can't say i'm that sad to see the hick's gone. THAT was getting painful to watch. I hated watching her cry when she made a wrong turn. Which BTW (by the way) If you know you have a bad sense of direction, And you know that its a marked path. You make sure you pay real close attention and make sure you find those markers. You kind of ask for it when you say " I guess we go right ! ".

For the Road Block I think I would have waited it out for a little while, it looked like they were there for only 5 min. but what do I know ? Besides i'm not the type of person that go say, "Yeah i could do an hour jog downhill." Also, I really would have wanted to do it ! I want to go sailin down that hill. I would not give up that oppertunity easily.

That cake challenge was brutal I must say. did you see the mounds of cake on the floor after the deaf kid and his mom where there. I loved the looks we got from him too.
Everytime my mom and I watch this show, every road block and detour we choose who would do what and which we would choose. I got the Road Block this time ( Yeah thats right ) This one we were fighting over who would get to do it, the bungee jmping ? We would gladly let the other one do it. We decided that Mrs. Loudshoes would take on that one. For the detour this week we would have chosen the Segway course. ( Btw, it didnt look much like an obstacle course to me. Sure there were small ramps and a little see-saw. But where is the real action. I say they should have to drive those things through ramps of raw eggs, and rings of needles. But thats my opinion. Probably why I dont work in any of those departments. Did you ever hear about mine and mrs. loudshoes extreme merry go round ? Another story. A good one. Remind her to tell you !) anyways. we know from many years experiance that you choose the thing you have control over. Sure you could finish in 3 pie throws, but you could also finish in 300. Never. NEVER choose somthing with animals. if you can avoid it. they can be stubbon and cost you the race. Yeah its happened.

Those blonde flight attendents. ugh. words cannot explain the stupidity. Like think for one second about what you are doing. maybe ask sombody ? Did you know that was allowed ? The rest of the world did.Is anybody else tired of the black basketball playing girls ? Like you know what, maybe you should have actually thought about who you are bringing on this race. Its the second leg and your tired of her voice ? good choice bud. Oh ! I thought that was hilarious when the school of rock team was trying desperatly to open the gate to get to Phil. Then that guy just pulls the door. Smart. :) I personally am bothered by the brother and sister. Do you have to be amazing at everything ? apparently. I dont know. just somthing about them.

Anyways, not the most exciting leg i've ever seen. But better than not watching it at all ! btw, I loove how Phile learned the sign language. That was cute ! So i hope you enjoyed listening to the summary of last nights episode from my point of view ! Hope I can do it again. And i'm glad I got to teach you something. BTW ( by the way ) remember that one.

PEACE

(&In the words of Mrs. Loudshoes .. "Until next week ! " )

Both Sick.

The plague continues. Now there are two children home sick from school. Two bodies lolling in bed or on couches, sniffling and spewing, wiping out entire rain forests with their kleenex consumption.
Thing 2 has been laid low this whole week with a virus that cut her off at the knees. She had a fever for a day or so, which went away, but she's still not herself. We can tell she is sick because she hasn't been on the computer in days, she is willingly taking medication (not like her at all) and her voice makes her sound like a career chain-smoker. Thing 1 started sneezing and barking like a seal last night, and this morning looked soooo sad and pathetic and miserable as she gamely got ready to go to school, that I told her to stay home.
Luckily it was a quiet day at work and I was able to come home mid-morning and take care of them. And really, when they are sick they revert to their former little selves, and all they want it mom. And I'm happy to do it.

First off, on my way home from work, I stopped at the grocery store. Because I know when I am sick, what I really want is comfort food: soup, crackers, tea, toast and lots and lots of chocolate. I did get some Chocolate Creme Eggs, because they are a little known, but powerful remedy for the common cold. (For those of you who have never had a Cadbury's Chocolate Creme Egg, they are intensely sweet little grenades of sugar and chocolate. They are superb for treating a cold because just one of those suckers will shock you into a sugar coma so fast, you won't even notice. When you wake up, it will be a brand new day and your cold will be history. Totally works.)
Thing 1 was delighted with her comfort food, namely garlic bread and fruit salad, and then she went off to work on that Creme Egg. I don't suppose I will see her for a few hours. Thing 2 wanted apple juice and lime sherbert, with some granola on the side. I would never have put "granola" into the "comfort food" category, but to each her own, I guess.

When you aren't feeling well, your own home and your own bed is the best of all possible places to be. I'm thinking of contracting a cold myself, just so I can indulge. It would be worth it, just for the Creme Egg.

Advice I Routinely Ignore

My lifestyle could hardly be described as "on the edge". I recycle. I floss. I've never been bungee-jumping. I plan my meals a week in advance. Not exactly a rebel. I hate getting into trouble....However, I do have a cavalier attitude to some advice that gets dished out regularly, and I revel in my fiendishness.

1. I never consult my doctor before starting any diet or excercise programme. That's mostly because I never start a diet or exercise programme. But if I did, I would do it with utter abandon.
2. I wash mushrooms under running water. And they fry up just fine, thank you.
3. I never repeat after lathering and rinsing. I know, I know, I'm playing with fire, but that's me.
4. I never dry anything flat. Laying something flat in this house may as well come with the directions "Decorate with sleeping cat".
5. I don't think I've ever used the gentle cycle on the washing machine. I can't imagine owning anything that cannot withstand a sand blaster for getting it clean.
6. I never sift flour. I just measure it and fling it right in the bowl and proceed to bake with it, with nary a thought to it's aeration.
7. I sometimes don't get a flu shot.
8. In all the years I've been colouring my hair, I've never once done a patch test. And lived to tell the tale.
9. I rarely have my hands at the "ten to two" position while driving. My hands are usually at the 6:30 position, or the "reaching for the coffee cup while putting on lip gloss" position.
10. I bring my own licorice into the movie theatre. Because I am not paying $12.00 for a bag of Twizzlers.

But I do recycle. And floss. And I have no intentions of bungee-jumping. But you never know.

Under The Weather

Poor Thing 2 was complaining last night of not feeling too well. She looked a bit peaky and out of sorts, and went to bed early. (Not like her at all.) Usually she's up at 8 without too much fuss, and I let her sleep on, just to see if she needed it, and sure enough, she slept until 9. The rule here at Chez Loudshoes is that you don't have to go to school if you are sick, but you are sick enough to stay home, you are sick enough to forgo tv and the computer. I know if they are really under the weather or just faking it by their response to this edict. ("Oh, geez, I may as well go to school then!")

It is much easier to have a sick 12 year-old than a sick 2 year-old. When a 2 year-old is sick, you usually find out only when they puke all over you, or all over themselves at 3 in the morning. (They are quite proficient at getting at least a little bit of puke on every single bit of bedding, stuffed animal and soft furnishing in the room. Impressive, really.) At least a 12 year-old can articulate "I suspect I am running a slight fever, as it has manifested itself as aches and a sensation of elevated temperature. Perhaps I should ingest a moderate dose of ibuprofen and water, and monitor my symptoms for the next few hours."

When the kids were small, I was instructed to give them Childrens Tylenol, which is the most ridiculous medication ever. For one thing, the dosage is something like "between the ages of 21 weeks and 17 and 1/2 months, 3/8 tsp for the first dose, and 16/18 every 97 minutes afterwards, not to exceed 2/3 of a cup in 24 hours". Also, it is dyed a most lurid, fervent crimson, which looks not at all pleasant when it comes spewing back up like a fire hose. Plus, those bottles are really small; when you have two sick toddlers in the house you can go through a couple of bottles a day. I wondered why they didn't sell them in six packs. You know those beer hats that allow you to hold a couple of beers on your head so that you could suck on a straw and leave your hands free? Those would have come in mighty handy for dispensing Children's Tylenol on some particularly trying days.

Anyway, Thing 2 had some tea and an apple, and read and napped, and was allowed to watch some tv. (I'm not that much of a hard-ass.) Toby kept her company most of the afternoon. ("Someone sleeping during the day?!? Excellent idea!! Count me in!") She seems a little better than she did, but we will see what the morning brings. As long as she's not puking on me, she can stay home as long as she likes.

Amazing Race 14, Ep. 1

Hello, my Race, so nice to see you again!

That was a fabulous first leg! Deaf guy! Tiny little stunt men! Hillibillies! Ned Schneebly from "School of Rock"! And best of all, the eternal Bickering Couple Who Come On The Race To See If They Have A Future Together were eliminated first! It's all good!

The Bickering Hicks can go soon, too. Honestly, if I'm running as fast as I can and someone is yelling at me to run faster, my first instinct is not "oh, gosh, he's right, I should harness that ability to run faster than I am physically able right now." My first instinct is to sit down right where I am and yell obscenities at them. Their dynamic is rather painful to watch, and I'd rather not. And while we are on the topic of the Hicks, are there no functional, fit and gainfully employed Southerners that are willing to be cast on this show?

That cheese challenge was the funniest thing I've seen in a very long time. Was it just me, or did those "traditional cheese carriers" appear to be made out of styrofoam and balsa wood? The wouldn't carry popcorn and feathers without breaking, I think. At first, I wondered why they didn't just toss the cheese down the hill and let gravity do the work for them, and then I saw those things careen down the hill at Mach 1 like 50 pound bowling balls, and I figured that was the reason. You could break a leg with one of those things. Oh, and I loved the Gauntlet of Cowbells. More cowbell!

Favorite Line of the Night: "Don't let a cheese hit me." I'll bet that's a sentence he never thought he'd say.

That bungee jump was wicked. Props to the nervous blond who didn't want to do it...she just sucked it up and got on with it, no muss no fuss. I was impressed, considering that Thing 1 and I spent 10 minutes arguing why the other one of us would be doing that if we were on that race, and we were both almost in tears just talking about it. I loved the Stunt Guy doing it, "just another day at the office".

I'm sorry, but has being blond and pretty EVER worked in anyone's favor on this race? Ever? Because every season, someone thinks that this is an amazing advantage, and I've certainly never seen any evidence whatsoever to make them think that this is so.

I loved the yodellers, and the fact that the racers had to find them....too funny. And the irony that the deaf guy and his mom did it first is not lost on me.

Sigh....I love Phil. Him learning that bit of sign language made me all teary and melty, and he was wearing a sweater that I heart very much.

Until next week!

Happy Birthday, Thing 2!

It is Thing 2's 12th birthday today, and you can believe me utterly when I say there were plenty of days when she was younger when I didn't think either one of us was going to live to see this day. A day where she was whole and healthy and independent and capable and well on her way to a rich, full life, and I had no criminal record and my name was not synonymous with "sold her child for spare parts".

Thing 2 has always been a kid who knew what she wanted and had no problem telling you what your role in the acquisition might be. When she was around 3 years old, she spent a lot of time with her hands on her hips, barking out orders to anyone within earshot....when people asked who she looked like, we replied, "Mussolini". Like most people born under the sign of Aquarius, she can't figure out why you can't see that she's right. And she's also charming and delightful and very, very funny.

It's always interesting when Thing 2 comes into the room:

• When she was about 18 months old, she pooped in the bathtub, and her poop had red sequins in it. (Very festive)
• She bonked her head so much when she was a toddler, that she referred to her forehead as her "poor head".
• She told the Mister's cousin that her new baby looked like "an alien".
• Pumpernickel bread was "pointy nipple bread"
• When she was about 4, she got mad at Thing 1 and threatened to cut off her ponytail.\
• She once went to bed wearing nothing but a life jacket. (In case the house hit an ice berg, I assume.)
• She was about 4 when she told me, very seriously, that "it's hard to kiss and think at the same time". I told her she didn't know the half of it.
• She was outraged at the idea that there were people in Thing 1's Grade 4 class that didn't believe in Santa Claus, and so she made a list of their names and sent it to St. Nick, just so he'd know, and they would be duly punished.

Happy 12th, sweetie! I don't know what we'd do without you!

Kibbles and Bits Some More

Things are very quiet here at Chez Loudshoes this week, which is just the way I like it. "Boring" and "uneventful" are positive things, in my books. The world could do with far more "boring" and "uneventful", I think. My calendar is very white, meaning it hardly has anything written on if for this week. (When the calendar is dark, with things written in sideways and along the margins because there's too much to fit into the little boxes, it makes me very stabby.)

Thing 2 will be celebrating her 12th birthday this week, and I was trying to remember what I was doing 12 years ago this week. Oh, that's right, bitching. That whole last trimester was one big bitch session, as I recall. I had pretty easy, low-drama pregnancies, but I recall being fed up of the whole adventure around month 7 with Thing 2, and I announced, loudly, that I was going to be monumentally cranky for the duration. (The Mister replied that he was going to be hard pressed to tell the difference between that and my usual demenor. Brave man, him.) Anyway, Thing 2 is very excited about her birthday; I think the fact that she's only celebrated 12 of them might have something to do with that. Once you've celebrated, I don't know, 30 or 40 of them, they lose their shine, somewhat.

The weather has been blissfully mild and non-wintery this week. The snow has been melting, and I've even had some of the windows open, to air out the place. (Shhh, don't tell the Mister....he will make fatherly grumbles about heating the whole of southwestern Ontario.) Toby approves very much, and spent most of the afternoon in the window of the ensuite bathroom,

making sure the squirrels did not get up to any hijinks. Or if they do, he can tell on them.

We went for a walk last Sunday to feed the ducks on the pond near our house, and the ducks were hilarious. Who knew? The pond had mostly frozen over, but there was some open water and the ducks were all crowded into that. They had to come over closer to us to get the bread, and that part of the pond was all icy. The result? Duck Bowling! They skittered and staggered all over the place in a most entertaining fashion. Then we witnessed a mallard ass-kicking, where two ducks seemed pretty determined to beat the snot out of each other. The Mister got involved and separated them, but they went right back at it. Just goes to show, testosterone is toxic in large doses, no matter what the species.

And the fact that that is all I can think of to write about will tell you how boring and uneventful my life is at the moment. It's perfect.

Top Ten Things I Learned Today

1. Toby does not like it when you hold onto his tail when he is going down the stairs.


2. The garlicky mashed potatoes are hardly ever garlicky enough, no matter how much too garlicky you think you are making them.


3. The skinny mocha lattes at Starbucks are delicious and only 90 calories.


4. Sunshine is a drug.


5. Cooked egg and avocado will NOT come off in the dishwasher.


6. My craving for chips and salsa borders on a disability.


7. Everyone in our neighborhood eats way more pizza than we do. (It was recycling day, and I got to see the contents of everyone's recycling box on my way to the mall.)


8. The underneath of the kitchen faucet is horrifyingly dirty. Seriously, go check yours out.


9. Everything looks better once the vacuuming is done. In fact, you hardly need to do any more cleaning if you do just that.


10. Cats and vaccuums don't mix.

Thanks for the Memories

I spent this evening drinking wine out of a box at my good friend, Big Liver Girl's house, and her delightful and newly-moved-to-town sister-in-law and brother-in-law were there as well. The Newly Moved to Towns have two delightful and delicious little children, about a year old and around two, who toddled and pattered and ambled about the place with complete good humor and bonhomie. I had totally forgotten what life is like with small children....it's not that long ago that my own were that age, but, truly, it is astonishing how quickly you forget. At the time it seems like your life was always ruled by what resembles drunken midgets looking for a bar brawl, and that it will never be any different, but it passes in a heartbeat.

I had forgotten:

• how busy small children are. They are like sharks, they never stop moving. Those little hands and feet and minds are always on the go. I suppose it's the fact that it's all new, it's all novel, and it must be investigated at once.
• how noisy they can be. Believe me, these two were far from loud, but I had forgotten the constant narration that young kids keep up. My own two were champion talkers from the time they figured out how to do it, and there were times when I offered to pay them a quarter if they would just. stop. talking for five minutes. (Which produced a whole other rant of "how much is a quarter?can we drive to DisneyWorld for that?how long is five minutes?is it this long?is it this long?is it this long?")
• how determined small children are to kill themselves. Really, they are quite purposeful in their goal to do themselves harm. "Hey! Is that a set of stairs I see? What happens if I stand at the top and lean over??? And wow! A rusty exacto knife! I bet I can have a lot of fun with that!!" There's no end to the perils they will pursue.
• how delightfully round and squishy their little bodies are. Babies and toddlers have exquisite skin and they smell delicious and their little knees and shoulders and bums are insanely darling.
• how little they are. I know it's ridiculously obvious, but they really are such tiny, wee things. You forget how small a space they take up.
• how tactile they are. Apart from the fact that they will happily play with nothing but their own body fluids for hours, I had forgotten how much they touch and like to be touched, and they climb all over you and you don't even notice most of the time. That perpetual physical connection is really such a very short time for both of you.

I thought I'd suffer from Post Traumatic Toddler Dissorder for the rest of my days when I was in the thick of it myself. If you had told me I'd have forgotten what it was like this easily, I'd have never believed it. But I did.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Overheard at Tim Hortons this morning:

Customer: "I'll have a 12-grain bagel, toasted, with cream cheese on the side, please."

Cashier: (looking a bit confused)"Okay......um.....which side?"

Things I Like About Getting Older

I had a birthday a couple of weeks ago, and despite the overwhelming evidence, I'm often surprised to find myself officially middle-aged.
I'm a Capricorn, and have accepted the burden of "old when I'm young" of my sign, so I'm just fitting into my skin now. (When I was a teenager and all my friends wanted to cross the border into Michigan, I was the one who blurted out "but we have no health insurance!") But luckily, I'm finding that getting older has some unexpected benefits, and I am happily embracing them:

I don't care how cool I look. There were many years of my life when how I appeared to others was of critical importance, and I was sure it was of critical importance to everyone else, too. I'm not sure when that dropped off my radar, probably somewhere around the time that I had small children hanging off me, depositing their bodily fluids all over my person with alarming enthusiasm. At this point in my life, I'm pretty sure nobody is looking at me, and if they are, they get what they get.

I am wiser. I have learned to consider the source, measure twice but cut once, shake before opening and always, always go home when the tequila comes out.

Experience gives you credibility When I warn the young people I work with about the dangers of shoulder pads and leg warmers, they listen. Because I have lived through that particular horror, and survived to tell the tale. They look at me with wonder and respect. And then when I tell them about perms and skinny leather ties, they listen.

I can do the things I like without derision. When I was younger and wanted to stay home on a Saturday night and read and knit and embroider and go to bed early, I kept that to myself, lest anyone know what a geek I was. Now, when I stay home and knit, it's perfectly acceptable, and I don't care what anyone thinks.. (Except my friend Sandy, who shouts "what are you, 90?" when I knit.) In another couple of years, it will be expected of me.

I can stop sucking in my stomach. I'm almost 50 and I've had two children. Nobody expects me to have a flat stomach.

Growing old is not for sissies, but staying young is even worse.

Reprieve

One of the reasons I haven't been posting much on the blog lately is because I am all whiney and moany about the weather, and can barely think about anything else, and really, who wants to read about that? I can barely stand to listen to myself, let alone inflict myself on anyone else.

But today, today, is an exception....today it feels like I'm nearing the end of a long prison sentence; I still have a ways to go, but the end is in sight and if I behave myself, I might get early parole. The sun is shining, the air is filled with the sound of water running and it doesn't hurt to breathe in deeply through your nose. It's not spring, but it's definitely not the dead of winter, either.

The snow has gotten all soft and slumpy and defeated here in the backyard. And that in the birdbath? that is definite melting going on there. Check out that glorious blue sky! It had been so long since we'd seen the sun I actually had to hunt down some sunglasses this morning to go get groceries. I hadn't seen them in ages, and didn't know where they were.

Toby is particularly enthusiastic about the change in temperatures....he had been slowly losing his mind the past couple of weeks, from being indoors so much, and I think I speak for both of us when I say "it's about time". (There's only so much dragging of yarn and tossing of foil balls and changing of bed linens I'm willing to do to keep that cat amused.) Here he is outside, experiencing sensory overload...the sun! the smells! the snow! the cold! Note his awkward stance, as he keeps breaking through the top crust of snow about 1 second after he thinks it's safe to put all his weight on it....he is clearly disconcerted, but I thought if was very funny. (I got a slitty-eyed glare of death when I laughed at him staggering around out there.)

Here is our garden gnome, Peadsworth, clearly coming up for air for the first time in 9 weeks. The forecast is for another day or two of this, and then back to desperate temperatures again, which is to be expected, being February and all. But the odd day like today makes the rest of the winter bearable. Just.