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Diary Rings

She blinded him with whiteness - 2008-07-25
Where'd I go? I was here a minute ago. - 2008-07-23
The Dented and the Demented - 2008-07-22
Mazdas and Mothers in Law - 2008-07-21
Serpent Girl - 2008-07-18

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12:28 p.m. - 2008-02-02
So Phil, what's the verdict?

Here we are on the second Saturday morning in a row. How very 'Groundhog Day' of it!

Why the second Saturday? Well yesterday was the first one. A completely atypical snow day. Usually even if we're expecting a blizzard I have to set the alarm and get up anyway. Then stagger downstairs, check the snow closing page on the radio station's website, wait for it to be updated again and again (nothing, nothing, two hour delay, two hour delay, etc) until it finally says it's an official snow day. By that time I'm fully awake and both Mick and Wolf have come downstairs too and are stumbling around the kitchen bitching and whining, like it's MY fault the districts dither until the last second. After it's official those two go back to bed and I'm left down here completely wired with a belly full of agita.

Yesterday Mick remembered to bring his phone into the bedroom and for once the district made a quick decision and actually used the alert system. At 5:20 the phone jingled and a robot voice informed Mick school was closed. If Mick's district is closed it's for darn sure wimpy lawsuit paranoid Podunkville is too, so I didn't even have to go find out. Mick shut off the phone, rolled over and snuggled up against me with a contented sigh and back to sleep we went. Ahhhh…

Not getting out of bed until after 9:00 made it a Saturday. All the usual Saturday stuff went with it. No road traffic, no early morning barrage of telemarketers, and after enough coffee for me I fixed a big pancake and bacon brunch for my guys. We all farted around in our pajamas in total weekend mode until late afternoon. Sheer bliss.

Today will be much the same except Mike took Wolf sneaker shopping and Mick just left to check on his folks and his grandmother and make sure both were sufficiently dug out and salted. Such a good son. Soon as I finish this I'll put on my Ms Fix-it hat and get to a bunch of niggly chores I'd been putting off. I'm going to do a tune-up on the furnace, it's warm enough today to have it shut down for a while. About 90% of the under cabinet disc lights are burnt out and the ex finally forked over the box of bulbs he'd been hiding from me (all the better to be a hump, my dear) and my kitchen will once again be properly lit and not the dim cave o' grease it's been for months now. The hair trimmers need oiling and the blades on the smaller one need to be changed. I'm going to snake the floor drain line in the cellar (see above about it being warm enough) and if I'm still feeling handy I might get to tipping up the washing machine and see if I can change out the leaky hose. Mick will have a cow if I move the washer myself so I'll wait for Mr Muscles to help me. Plus, I'll admit I luuurve the way Mick gets all misty-eyed and sweet when he watches me do mechanical stuff. "My girl," he says, "is a genius. Talented. Awesome. I am so lucky to have you." Shoot, for validation like that I'd break every fingernail making with the wrenches and drills.

And I do have nails again. Not Dragon Lady claws, but nice. Did a spiffy Chanel manicure on Thursday top-coating them with that titanium-strength sealer from Revlon. It's 3 days later and they're still unblemished and so shiny they look wet. Finally seeing some progress in the weight loss too. I haven't dared the scale but the muffin top has deflated and my waist is visible again. Still miles away from my 12's, but at least I'm not exploding out of the 14's anymore. Seeing how pleased I am Mick has ceased his fretting over what I am and am not eating. At least out loud, but I do catch the occasional grumpy eye roll when I sit at table with them and have nothing in front of me but a Diet Coke. He also thinks it's weirdly masochistic for me to cook all these fantastic meals and eat nothing myself. I mock him and say the hallmark of a true eating disorder is cooking obsessively and refusing to eat any of it.

Even if Mick weren't around I'd be laying out the vittles for Wolf. The child grew 2 inches this month! My son the air fern has been packing it away like a teenager. Which, I suppose he is sort of. He's only 10 but two inches in four weeks is definitely adolescent growth-spurt worthy. This is why he's out getting new sneakers today. Wolf's grown right out of everything. Jeans are mid-shin, long gangly wrists hanging out of way too short sleeves and he's started wearing my socks, he can't squeeze his feet into his own anymore. And this is only the beginning. Best I can figure is he has another 14 inches to grow before he tops out. Might be more, but his brother stopped at 6'2". The potential for NBA height is there though. The DNA from the giants of previous generations is still swimming around the gene pool. His great-grandfather Ole was the runt of his family coming in at a mere 6'7". Oy, I am not looking forward to when I have to look up at my baby.

Well kids, it's time for me to strap my tool belt on this skinnier waist of mine and do some Bob Vila.


Happy Groundhog's Day, ~LA

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