Day two of snow days at school. Overall, pretty great. Except that we have to make them up in June, apparently. It all makes sense that the district didn’t build in snow days into our school calendar. This is the first year Colorado has seen snow in over a century. Everyone was shocked.
I literally spent my last dollar on a coffee at my gay coffee shop, so that I could get out of the house for a bit. It would be a perfect day for multiple massages, with no school, and all. Of course, most people aren’t willing to risk dying for a massage. Although, it would be nice if they did. Risk, that is—not actually die. Unless, they paid me first. Just kidding. Really.
It really is gorgeous outside. It’s the most beautiful kind of snow, never ceasing a gentle decent to the earth, well over a foot deep, brilliant white, making everything magical. Hopefully, you’ve noticed, but even if you haven’t, I’ve done a pretty good job not talking about what I normally talk about the past few blogs (intentional)—not because it’s not an issue, but because maybe if I can stop here, I can force my brain and heart to do a reset. So far, no such luck. But still… This weather doesn’t help. It brings back so many memories (laying in bed in the morning, arms wrapped around each other, watching our world turn into crystal paradise, knowing we had nothing to do but be with each other all day, warm and cozy in the house—the deep snow we trudged through as we loaded up all his things before he drove away—).
While I hate that winter’s here, I wish everyone could see the puppies (even Dunkyn with is drastic new hair cut). The joy they have in the snow makes it worth being cold and wet to take them on a walk. Dolan goes beside himself (which, if you know Dolan, is really saying something). His head barely breaks the top of the snow, but he somehow cavorts all fifty pounds of him into this leaping dolphin and dives in and out of the snow, sheer bliss over his doggish countenance. Then, he shoves his head as low to the ground, and tunnels through the snow like a crazed prairie dog, only to take a final leap and plunge his head back into the snow, burying his nose in the snow and holding it there until he snorts and shakes it all off. Dunkyn, takes much more after his daddy, plods along, equally buried in snow, but constantly chowing down like a cow in the middle of wet dream of alfalfa.
And, so, I shall soon return home (as long as my car can get onto my street—I barely got away from my street) to walk the dogs, wait for massage appointments that won’t come with this snow, watch lots of TV (you really need to check out Vampire Diaries and Eastwick), and eat let over food in my freezer (and a good note, I’ve finally started cooking again—so that’s a good sign right?—now if I can just make myself put the Christmas tree [this Sunday is the day I always do it, but I don’t see that happening this year]). All in all, happy snow day, everyone!