I am wearing a wool hat in my bedroom. This is not a complaint, just an observation.
I have dreaded going out to the chickens for about 3.6 weeks, and today was no exception. I keep shoveling a path and the snow STILL manages to get in my boots. The girls squawk and run around in circles because they’ve been cooped up in the henhouse for nearly a month. The snow is higher than the mini door to the run, and at this point, it’ll be another two months before they see the outdoors. I give them apples and scraps to compensate. They glare at me.
I got a text (a text!) from the airline that my flight to Nashville has been cancelled. They’ve graciously (graciously!) put me on a flight to Nashville on Wednesday, but that only gives us 1.5 days for way more than 1.5 hassle…we shall see. K and I are waiting a little longer to decide how to make the most of this very unwelcome change of events.
I have brewed more tea and coffee this month than the rest of the winter combined.
I’m wearing out my new Christmas slippers.
If I don’t go to Nashville for break, does that mean I have to do grad school homework instead?
[N.B. I love snow. Even yesterday, waking up to the fourth storm in a row, I was glad. Then I drove home slowly and steadily and slipperily and was still glad.]
He asked what I did last Valentine’s Day as we watched the icy snow slant sideways through the light of the street lamps. I had no idea. It’s not really a day I’ve marked in, oh, ever.
[Just looked it up: was on my way to Italy with our school trip. Not a bad way to celebrate.]
This just in: not going to Nashville.
Not renting a car for the first time. Not dancing along Music Row.
Where does that leave me in this ice-snow winter?
Wondering how best to paint NYC red.
[I’m sure we can dance just as well in New York, and it turns out Nashville is barely any warmer than home.]
[I may or may not be wearing my newly knit hat — it kinda fits in with the hipster vibe of Williamsburg, right?]