Gag.

Lainy and Max and Jo brought some sunshine (in theory) and happiness on Tuesday (PLEASE. The girl has no pants on and my muck boots.), but since they left it’s been nothing but snow and 30mph winds and 25˚ temperatures. We wanted Spring. We wanted grass. We wanted trees budding. We wanted robins and bluebirds. We wanted picnics and kites and jellybeans and frolicking. *sniffle* Abe is sad. The house is sad. I shall forego a photo here as to not incriminate my lazy self. Mamma is sad. Again no photo, but will say I spent all morning yesterday and part of the afternoon in navy blue sweats, a bright yellow ARMY t-shirt, red fleece socks all covered up with a zip-up purple robe. Stick that in your mental picture bank and give it a whirl.
Rylie…whose Native name is “she who is covered in snot“…she is NOT so sad. She is reading. The irony of her outfit today is obviously not lost on her. She makes me laugh so hard. There’s a new video over at YouTube of her “reading.” I warn you, it’s a video only grandparents and those deeply devoted to the extreme cuteness of my child can love. I mean…1.5 minutes of a 4 month-old “reading”? Please. [added 3.5 seconds later: Pap, it’ll be there. You have to give it a second. Sheesh.]

Curt is also not so sad as the weather has allowed him to work inside on the tile at the back door and front entrance. Those of you who have visited the Shoebox will smartly register that the distance from the front entrance to the “back” slider door is about 25 feet. It’s a small huge, enormous, MASSIVE, big enough to get lost in [edited to quiet the masses] house. S’ok. The tile at the back door is necessary to impede the burning down of the Shoebox when we use the gorgeous wood-burning stove we bought ourselves for Christmas. The tile at the front door is for Winter slush and Spring rain and Summer Abe’s-been-in-the-creek-again. I will say once more that my husband is amazing…or, according to Great Gramma Betty, “a dream.” Amidst all the whining and baking and lack-o-cleaning, there has been k-nitting. Silent, underground k-nitting. K-nitting with new friends. K-nitting at local yarn stores. K-nitting during LOST and March Madness (Gig ‘Em, Ags). Here’s Little Miss Sunshine the Cat, friend to Miss Violet the Bunny. Next to her is a little v-neck sweater for my sweet, snotty, slam-dancin’ fool of a girl.

Happy blustery EASTER weekend to you all!
I’m going to Bombay with Laura. Bring on the curry.
There may be yarn therapy involved afterwards.