The ZOMGSNOWPOCALYPSE is hitting Georgia right about… now. The kids only had half a day of school, there are actual snowflakes in the air, and rehearsal for The Vagina Monologues this evening has been canceled. (Did I mention that I was doing that again? I am. Also, I’m not quiiiite off-book yet, as I was supposed to be for tonight, so yay for canceled rehearsal!) (Did I spend an hour this morning doing chores around the house, belting out dialog about my vagina, much to the dogs’ consternation? Indeed I did. Duncan seemed particularly uncomfortable, which is saying something, because he regularly flops down in the middle of the floor to lick his phantom balls for an hour.)
Now that I’ve successfully rendered this post porn according to most search engines (HAAAAA), I thought it would be a good time to direct any whippersnappers to my post today at Alpha Mom about how these southern snow days do NOT remind me of my youth. And if that’s not enough—or if you’re in a cooking mood—last week I shared some suggestions for Super Bowl snacking, though here at Casa Mir we will, of course, be dining on Extreme Bitterness That The Patriots Aren’t Playing.
As a Savannah-turned-Boston girl, I felt enormous pride this Saturday when I told my Dad (still in the south) that it has been a perfectly warm day to go snowtubing….at 30 degrees. I have officially acclimated.
Please tell! Which vagina are you this year?
“Because He Liked To Look At It”
(Probably my favorite, after Angry Vagina. Really looking forward to this production!)
It’s a topsy-turvy world, as here in the great Pacific Northwest we are experiencing comparatively tropical temps and the Seahawks are playing in the Super Bowl (while I will also be dining on Extreme Bitterness and Sour Grapes).
Your snow day memories are quite similar to mine. And quite different from my granddaughter’s experiences today. Go figure. We had a wood-burning kitchen stove and there was nearly always a pot of soup simmering on the back burner. And fresh bread in the warming oven above, and cookies coming out of the oven, and . . .
I kinda’ sorta’ do that soup thing with my crock pot still. Just add a few new ingredients from time to time and keep it going. Oh, the horror! But it works for me. I come face to face with just how much cooking I actually am doing when I wash up the dishes. A bunch of spoons and bowls, the end. Works for me!
I hope, based on the publication time of this post, that your children were at home and safe all night. We’ve been hearing horror stories about what happens to the Atlanta area when there’s 3 inches of snow…
So I’m the only person that snorted at phantom ball licking?
We in the Frozen Tundra Land have to admit to chuckling that we need a dozen inches to shut us down, and the weather maps for Georgia say not 12, but 1 to 2 inches. When the Great Lakes start hosting their own hurricanes, I’ll give you a call for sage advice!