Monday, January 31, 2011
They are predicting a 'storm of the decade'. I wish it would be like the above picture. The stolen picture had a caption about it being the Blizzard of 1977 which I totally believe. We had snowbanks high enough to sled off our neighbor's garage in South Dakota. Those were the good-old-days.
Funny thing I noticed again today. The post office had a line 18 deep (really!). The grocery store was jam-packed. In fact I feel very lucky. I got the last two dozen eggs. (No thanks to the Chicken lady who wouldn't wait for me to get done talking yesterday after g.m. and left without delivering the golden eggs.And to add insult to injury, she had the nerve to say I talk too much!) So I stocked up for the 'storm of the decade' just like the next guy.
My parents right now are over Canada (flight tracking is sure a neat thing!) They're a couple hours into a 14 hour and 17 minute flight to a very far away place with cheese curds in their suitcase. They're going to have special days there on the other side of the world. Yes, my parents don't let their suitcases get dusty. No sirreee. There's people to see. Places to go. And Spirits to cheer.
Any parents out there have experience with teeth? What I mean is teeth that don't come in? One of the many young people here had a tooth come out almost a year ago. And the replacement just sits there. The gum gets all fat and looks promising. And then it doesn't come through. So our little toothless wonder will remain as such until the tooth fairy decides to help it down a bit. We have an appointment in a month to see what's going on.
Speaking of teeth, I have my first cavity (albeit a small one) in years and years. Will have to cut down on the Laffy Taffy's I reckon.
Had a conversation with the girls last night as they were going to bed. We were talking about people and houses and unique smells. One said that they could walk into any friend's house with their eyes closed and know exactly who's place they were at. And I tend to agree. It must be a combination of the people that live there, their cleaning supplies, woodwork, pets, you name it. Everyone's place has a special smell except ours. We're immune from that because we don't notice it when we come home. Weird, eh?
Better go get a snack on the island for the young people that will soon barge in the door with very sloppy boots and runny noses. Another quiet Monday will be no more. Very random musings I say...