If you’ve read me for awhile, you’ll know that (a), that means work was called off, although we are expected to “work from home,” and I remember a really bad storm two years ago where I proofread a giant deck–giant–and just as I was finishing it, Iris stepped on my laptop and erased all the changes I had made.
And that is why Iris is mounted on my wall today.
(Also, a deck is a presentation. It is important to never call anything by its name.)
This, by the way, is how Ms. Iris has spent her snow day, aka all days. Her big-game-hunting seems to have dwindled, although to her credit, now when I see something dead on my doorstep–mice, a bird, a hobo–I just assume Steely Dan killed it. I also assume he, and not video, killed the radio star.
I don’t give poor Iris any credit anymore. However, see above. How can she kill things if she’s nodded out on the horse or whatever is going on with her and all cats who can’t seem to stay awake more than 20 minutes at a stretch.
Anyway, they warned us snow was coming, and when did weather get to be such an exact science? Remember in the old days and all the jokes about the weatherman being wrong? Now it’s all, “Snow will begin in your zip code at 4:49 a.m.”
But anyway, yes, they warned us it was coming, so I left work on time-ish and dashed on over to daycare to get my child.
Careful readers will note the ears in the window, and how did he KNOW it was me? It was 5:30 on a Tuesday; every motherfucker on god’s green was coming to get his or her dog, but old Ears up there…maybe that’s why. Maybe the ears tipped him off. He could hear my thoughts or whatever from Spain.
Anyway, my giant nose and I got him home and at some point I turned into a Rembrandt with that collar. I guess it’s a scarf. Still.
I made an enormous pot of pumpkin chili on Monday, because you know what a chef I am, and yes, I just linked to a recipe. Who even am I?
Anyway, I knew I was okay with food in case I had a long winter like Laura Ingalls Wilder. And also like Laura, in her hit book Little Movie at the Shopping Center, I had the dilemma: Should I go to the movies with The Poet as we’d planned, and risk opening the theater doors afterward to see that we lived in a snowglobe?
I sound like a movie trailer. In a world…
But because she is from Iowa and I am from Michigan, we decided to not be a couple of pussies, and we applied the same logic to the size of our popcorn. You’ll be stunned to hear we had some left over.
“Well, I didn’t know you’d eat five pieces and be done,” said The Poet, who apparently really is one of those “where does she put it all” kinds of people, because she gave that bucket the college try and she weighs about 72. Lithe, is what she is. And also currently full of popcorn.
Anyway we saw Lady Bird, and I will not bore you with the fact that we liked it, as everyone likes it, and I wish I could be rebellious and say, “Not enough titties” or whatever, but I cannot. As it was a sweet movie.
Then I got up today, as per usual, and kind of forgot it was supposed to have snown–yes, snown–and went about my normal business, such as navigating the Cat Calcutta that is my hallway first thing.
But I opened the blinds, and I was all, Oh, yay! I forgot that it was supposed to have snowded. Then I checked m’phone and Oh, yay! Work is canceled. Then I checked it further, and Oh, boo. We are expected to work anyway.
So I’m constantly checking my phone to see if work is streaming in, which really cockblocks my original plans of Bailey’s and hot chocolate all day.
So, as I was saying 47 paragraphs ago, if you’ve read me awhile, you’ll know snow means I don’t have to go to work and also winter frolic pictures will occur.
Meanwhile, back inside my ranch, and that joke never gets old, Steely Dan was torn between wanting to venture outside and being highly offended that something outside kept making his paws cold.
I was in the kitchen, doing dishes because hey, dishwasher that works, and Steely Dan kept opening the damn back door, going out, trying to walk on everything that wasn’t snowy, then coming back in getting bored and doing it all over again. I’d have snapped his neck had it not been sort of cute.
He also begged to go out the front, as if maybe it hadn’t snowed in the front yard.
I wonder how many people are waiting for (b). See first paragraph. Then remember whose not-blog you are reading.
There you go.
Your Ice Princess,