Ice Ice Baby

Come on, y'all. SOMEbody had to say it. Yes, Internets, it's frigging freezing here in the Lone Star State, and prescriptions for Cabin Fever are up 1000%. Ice? Check. Snow? Yeah, buddy. Overly excited weather folk fawning over their magical weather machines and cutting in to my TV stories every 15 minutes? Well, we've got that, too.

But, over here at Casa de Bone, we've also had sleeping late, perpetual PJ days, Polly Pocket marathon fashion shows, and several rousing games of Candy Land and Hi Ho Cherry O (which Olive has dubbed, "Chee Chi Cheerio"). Peach is teaching me how to play chess, and Olive has shown quite a penchant for architecture in the incredible block cities she's been working on. Yesterday, we went for a walk in the snow - actual snow, people - and although everything looked beautiful and magical and all that shit, I was reminded by the pile of wet coats, hats, and boots why it is I will never live anywhere north of Hwy 183. How do you poor Yanks do this every day? Every winter? And don't even get me started on the mountain folk. Bless your hearts. I would have to have rubber floors throughout my house and some sort of anteroom wherein everyone would have to strip down naked before entering the house proper. And I would have to have diapers for any dogs because hell if I'm going outside to walk them.

And the laundry. Oy. I've done eight loads the past two days, four for Peach's class, and I think I would have to splurge for one of those giganto front loading washers if I had a bunch of cold weather gear to deal with. I mean, really, there has to be a limit on how many days one can wear long underwear without washing it. Eww.

I love cold weather - just from inside my house. As school was cancelled the past two days, we've been instructed by GGMS to "stay off the roads and enjoy this gift of togetherness," and, by God, we have. Until Ice Storm 2012, stay warm, y'all. And stay sane.