Tucked in for the rest of the snowy day

[mrissa]

Today Ista went in to get a haircut, and the drive into the vet's (which also houses our groomer) was already getting pretty slick. So I walked to get her, instead of driving, and the walk back counts as her walk for the day. We are done, we are home, we are gradually -- very gradually -- warming up. And after another few minutes, we will be working on the book. Well, one of us will. When we got home, my footprints from the walk out had already disappeared on the road in front of our house. There will be warm leftovers for dinner, and quiet time with my book and probably with someone else's book as well, and there will be scruffing with the wee beast, and there may even be fresh pumpkin bread (since the last time I made pumpkin bread, the oven went insane). And I'm only going out to shovel Ista's path on the back deck. Saturday was a lovely day out and about in the snow, glorying in being careful Minnesota drivers. Today will be a lovely day in, now that we've had our walk. All good. All good. I love this place so much. A tree had split under the weight of the heavy wet snow on one of its larger branches, and we stood and smelled it as the snow came down on our heads. It wanted to smell like spring, but it didn't quite manage; the sap was wrong. We were both fascinated, the dog and I, and so happy.

Comments

[mamapduck.livejournal.com]

In The Sims you can teach your dog to water the garden. I will be way impressed if you can teach Miss Ista The Wonder Poodle (She Plays Hockey!) to write novels.

BTW, you do not have to decide which novel to write next.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Ista helped me shovel her path from the back deck. I wielded the shovel, and she jumped around and barked instructively.

It's a good thing I don't have to decide which novel to write next, because this one is enough trouble.

[von-krag.livejournal.com]

Miss Tobi-Ko sniffed "Dogs are SUCH rude creatures" She then gacked up a hairball.

[scottjames.livejournal.com]

I hope, ummm, that your oven has recovered it's sanity. Because that, umm, sounds like not the thing. Unless it is. Because I don't really know what that means.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

The temperature fluctuated wildly, but not so wildly as you might fear. I am not the person in my close circle of friends whose oven exploded recently.

[scottjames.livejournal.com]

There is a person in your close circle of friends whose oven exploded recently!??!?!

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Yes.

She was not eaten by eels killed by her oven at this time.

[intrepida.livejournal.com]

I really miss snow.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Snow misses you, too, Betsy. Or at least its denizens do.

[cammykitty.livejournal.com]

Oooh! Pumpkin bread! I was reading this and thinking it sounded like the weather here, and um geez, I didn't realize you were in Minnesota too. Hope Ms. Ista showed off her nice clean & trim locks to everyone you passed! I'm sure she's stylin'.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

We didn't pass anybody! They were all inside out of the snow!

From a quick glance at your friendslist, I'm not sure we know any Mpls people in common, but yep, here we are. Frequent love songs to the Cities happen here.

[tanaise.livejournal.com]

We just had a squash bread last night--acorn and butternut, with a lemon-ginger curd/sauce.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I wouldn't have thought of that as a use for lemon curd. Nom.

[tanaise.livejournal.com]

It was pumpkin-bread spiced, which isn't far off of gingerbread spiced, after all.

[athenais.livejournal.com]

*sigh* That's such a delightful entry.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

At 2:30, I awoke to the little furry head on markgritter's pillow (markgritter being absent) saying, "Uff? Arrooo?" Translation: Monkey, something is wrong here. Being a monkey, I assumed that the something was that the bop had to pee before morning. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her down the stairs. I didn't turn on the lights -- it's my house. I know where everything is.

It was not that she needed out. She had heard the driveway-clearing service. "It's okay," I whispered, and she snuggled into my arms and licked the underside of my chin, and we stood there and watched the man blade the driveway and the road in front of the driveway and then shovel the steps by the light of the streetlights and by the residual snowlight in the sky. And then I put on a pair of clogs and put the leash on her and stood on the back deck, where I'd shoveled her path, while she took care of things, and the wind blew through the snowy oaks and birches and shifted the snow just a little bit in its drifts.

We went back to sleep immediately.