Sunday, December 15, 2013

I Want to Wash My Hands, My Feet, My Hair With Snow — UPDATED with Survival Story and Less Porn

It snowed in Arlington last night, and this morning our minister canceled church, which is almost unprecedented. And it's not so much the amount of snow that's the issue (from my window it looks like six to eight inches, maybe? and our street is clear, more or less), it's the weight of it; shoveling heavy snow is a big risk factor for heart attacks.

Can't wait to get out there in it!

I'm also waiting to hear whether Mimosa's 11 a.m. rehearsal is canceled; they said they'd let us know by 9, and it's 9:03. Tonight is also Youth Group and my penultimate OWL class, and I should know the fate of either of those by 2 p.m. It would be lovely to stay home and watch the Survivor finale (prediction: Tyson wins it all) with Li'l Martini, who has a bad cold and must be doctored with Mucinex and hot tea today so he can go to school tomorrow.

I'm just about done with my Christmas shopping; now I'm waiting for things to arrive from Amazon so I can get them wrapped and in the mail to California and Minnesota. We're easing into the home stretch, which feels good; the house is mostly decorated, and I may or may not set out my Barbies in their red and green outfits, or stick my ancient window clings (vintage 1970!) to the dining room windows — no big either way. I'm hosting my annual Caroling Party on Thursday, which will take some pre-work, though, as Sexy Em says, I've done this party for 10 years and can pretty much do it in my sleep now. I have three presents that I'm making, so I need to get on that — but none of them are hard.

I also need to firm up plans for Martini's 13th birthday on the 21st (he wants a cookies 'n' cream milkshake for breakfast, laser tag with SuperDad's son, hot dogs and a Tower of Doughnuts for dinner, and HoneyBear to sleep over). My baby will be a teenager! Crazytown.

I hear the scritch-scritch of my neighbor's shovel. The trick is to get the snow moved before it freezes. No word yet from Watertown Children's Theater. Arggh!!!

Time to put on my big-girl boots and get out there, I fear. Please send prayers for stout hearts and strong backs! The Chardonnays, who are a fragile wimpy people, will thank you.

— Lady C, intrepid snow warrior

p.s. Just heard from WCT — rehearsal is ON! Cool. And Kind Tina says she votes for canceling OWL tonight, so keep your fingers crossed.


Shoveling done, took about an hour. The top layer was a solid crust, so that took some effort to break through and move, but once that was done the underneath snow was light and fluffy. And the kids are old enough to be of some help; together they add up to one slow-moving dull-witted person, and that's not nothin'. (You may quote me!)

Husband believes he has survived frostbite, as his hands went from red to gray (I might have that in the wrong order) and hurt like hell. He is a true snow warrior. I made him hot coffee and will be on the lookout for excellent waterproof gloves. (We are not the type of family that takes winterwear very seriously. I just shoveled in sweatpants and a hat I bought at the Party Store, and I was toasty warm, thank you very much.)

Mimosa's off to rehearsal (with a bagful of cider doughnuts and fresh grapes; my shy girl is having a hard time bonding with the Watertown cliques, and I thought bringing a yummy snack to share might help), Martini is nursing his cold and drinking hot cocoa, Husband is grading (the semester officially ends this Monday, hurrah!), and I'm about to make cranberry bread and decide which of my many constant projects to tackle today.

For those who saw the original image I used for this post: Oh my! I didn't see it clearly when I first chose it — I only saw one person. I do think it's pretty funny, but I try to keep this blog G-rated for the most part, except for my potty mouth and violent tendencies and frequent updates on my menstrual cycle. But no, snow-blowing does not make the cut.


  1. Best of luck with the snow, Lady C! We got what is, for Kentucky anyway, a veritable blizzard last week (i.e. 4 inches). It's lovely, but I just want to sit with a coffee (or wine) and not leave my house and look at it. Leave the shoveling to our eager neighbor boys?

  2. Coffee, then wine. God bless the eager neighbor boys!

    We got ours done in an hour with almost no casualties; Husband stood at the sink for 20 minutes running his hands under lukewarm water and moaning about frostbite. So far 10 fingers still, but the day's young.