Snowmazing Feb 2011

Really?

6 AM - dogs are buried up to their chest.

Moved my car to see how deep it is - um, yeah.

Front yard

Up to the bottom of the patio chairs

Still coming down - expecting at least 4 to 6 more inches of snow.

The possibility of snow…………

Northwest Arkansas has a slight chance of snow for Christmas this year. On one hand it would be nice to have a white Christmas. On the other hand, it might prevent loved ones from reaching my house on Christmas day. If only there were a way to keep the snow off the roads. If only……….

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

This is my favorite poem and not really a Christmas poem, but still I wanted to share it with you today.

I want to wish you a very Merry Christmas. Love – Starwoodgal

Skid Marks!

I drew a line in the sand today.   After 28 years of marriage, I have the divine right to pick and choose what I will or will not wash.  Period.

 I entered the laundry room to put away some cleaning supplies I had been using and there stood my husband.  He had a handful of dirty clothes, but suspiciously rolled up.  I said, “What’s that?”.   “Oh, I had a blow out”, he said so innocently.    “Um, and you were just going to leave it there for me to ‘find’.  Not the kind of thing I want to discover hours, possibly a day later.  No! Dude! Wash it yourself or throw it away.  I’m not cleaning that up”, I said – trying not to gag while saying it. 

He washed them.  Himself.  In the sink.  And, then I made him scrub the sink too.    Ugg! I still believe our first impressions at 5 years old was correct. Boys. Are. Gross!