I am sulky today. I admit it. But OMG DID YOU LOOK OUTSIDE? That is not just snow, my friends. That is BASTARD SNOW.
Ten centimetres of blowing freezing hate, that is.
I went out to get the garbage can from the curb and was getting PELTED by snow. I hate that. I am as okay with spring snowstorms as the next person, but that? Is just RUDE.
So I am inside feeling housebound and sulky and peevish. I am so not impressed by the snow that I am not even going to bother trying to go out and shovel. First off, IT’S STILL SNOWING AND BLOWING SO WHAT IS THE FRIGGING POINT. And second, taking half an hour to wrangle a post-nap preschooler into a StayPuft Marshmallow Man snowsuit and hat and boots and mitts and whatever to then take her outside where she’s too little to do anything anyway but fall down and get stuck places and shout a lot, while I am ill-dressed and cold and getting pelted by snow and wind while doing a chore which lost its appeal to me sometime around the middle of winter about a month and a half ago?
I think not.
So I made a cup of tea. And I am sitting here, peevish.
I want to eat my body weight in comfort food. Specifically, today, homemade cookies. Of which we have exactly NONE. And I promised not to make any so the diabetic in our life (BDH) would not be tempted. So, the cookie jar is empty. Plus, eating for comfort is not a good thing to do. APPARENTLY. These doctors and nutritionists and their health recommendations and dietary rules. Feh. Clearly these people must LIKE snow and are FINE with a zillion tons of snow in MARCH. Or they live in BARBADOS or on some TROPICAL PARADISE. And they’re probably all HEALTHY, and have great FIGURES, and can run MARATHONS, and have all their own TEETH…
Okay, I have all my own teeth. BUT STILL, THAT IS NOT THE POINT. I hate them.
And add to that, Elizabeth Taylor died. Excuse me, DAME Elizabeth Taylor. She was awesome. She was a DAME, all right. She loved with all her heart and lived by her own rules and did it all OUT THERE and she made no apologies for any of it. She stood up and smacked the world upside the head about HIV and AIDS. She called out the bastard Reagan government to DO SOMETHING. She spoke up and got out there and lived a big life, man. AND she was a big old sexy mama.
I liked her. So that gave me a sad.
And because it’s snowing, we are housebound, and I have to entertain a preschooler. ALL DAY LONG. . This is a challenge. I bet Dame Liz Taylor could have done it. Or hired a staff to do it. Either way.
Do you know how long my kid’s attention span is? Slightly longer than that of a cat, essentially. Maybe. So I am basically entertaining her IN FIFTEEN MINUTE INCREMENTS. If I am lucky. “Do you want to colour? Yes? Great! Okay, so we’re done? Allright. How about stickers? Yes? Stickers? Okay. I’ll get them. Oh not these ones? The CAR ones? Okay. What, you are DONE with the car ones? You want the HAPPY ones? All right. Hang on. Here. Oh I see. NO MORE happy stickers. Playdoh? Sure, we can play with… What? BALLET? You want to dance? Alright, let me turn on the… WHAT? Not THIS SONG? You want ANOTHER SONG? YOU SURE? OKAY. WHERE ARE YOU GOING? NO WE HAVE ALREADY BRUSHED OUR TEETH GET BACK DOWN HERE DO YOU WANT TO WATCH A VIDEO NO NO NO MORE CURIOUS FUCKING GEORGE AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHH.”
So, that was fun. And all before noon, too. Thank doG for afternoon naps.
And still the snow falls. Bastard snow. I want to know who is responsible. And I will send them A VERY STERNLY WORDED LETTER.
One of the Naked Neighbours was out yesterday (not naked) starting to get their vegetable garden ready. A tad optimistic, I thought. But she did a good job — it looks good… ALL COVERED WITH SNOW.
The snow has also buggered up my physio for this week, since it will be nigh unto impossible for BDH to get home on time tonight. Which, to be honest, is fine, since it will STILL BE SNOWING.
If I had a webcam, you’d know I am sitting with my elbows on my desk and face in my hands in the CLASSIC SULK POSITION.
Okay. One elbow on the desk. I need one hand free to drink my tea.
But the beginning of March was warm. So I guess this sort of how the old saying goes: If March comes in like a lamb, it goes out like a FUCKING SNOWY BASTARD.
Possibly I am paraphrasing.