Iced

Inspirational song: Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer (Elmo & Patsy)

Everybody feels like they’ve been run over by a truck the day after Thanksgiving, right? It’s not necessary to line up at 4 am for bargains to be literally run over by humans in order to share in the misery. That, or we are just really efficient, feeling the pain without wasting the time in front of a big discount store. We all limped around the house like retired bull riders, once we were all eventually awake this morning. We grazed on leftovers and soaked in the hot tub, letting the bulk of the day drift by before attempting to go out in it.

We needed to brave a couple of stores, although we chose those without big crowds. The lines weren’t long at the closest hardware store come two o’clock this afternoon. It didn’t take us too long to pick up a new snow shovel and ice chipper. We zipped down to Boulder, on still-gnarly roads, for a quick trip to Pearl Street. My daughter got a touristy gift to take back to her best friend in California, and a tasty local treat to put in her work White Elephant gift exchange. We parked in a particularly sloped, slushy spot on the street rather than heading into a garage, and as full dark settled across the town, the three of us teamed up to push my little Ford out of it, into busy traffic. We found that it was a good thing that snow shovel was still in the car.

I stayed home while the Mr drove our daughter to the airport. I think I’d had quite enough of icy roads by that point. She arrived more than two hours before her flight, knowing how bad security was going to be today. While she sat at the gate, the snow picked up again, and she got to hang out even longer in the terminal. But last I heard she was boarded, and any minute now I’ll get the word that she’s back on the ground in her home state. I’m so glad I got several days with her this week. It was a solid visit, but it was over in a flash.

Reclaiming My Wine

Inspirational song: Baby Mine (Dumbo)

Look. I'm a pragmatic girl. I know people have better things to do on Thanksgiving than to read me. I had better things to do myself. I'm at the end of a glorious holiday just as I want to be: content, more than a little intoxicated, tired, sore, and among excellent company. Finding the energy to write is a challenge, and knowing that my audience is most likely in the same place I am makes it doubly hard to press on. I have big, fun news to announce, but I'm too tired to be eloquent. It will have to wait until I can put more words together properly.

I hope you all had as good a holiday as I did. Every single member of my in-law family was present today. It was an enormous crowd, and cause to take a huge family photo, like they haven't in years. For some reason, they didn't want goofy auntie holding a full wine glass in the picture. Someone whisked it out of my hand. Once the picture was done, I had to chase it down, chanting "reclaiming my wine!" The day was terrific and I loved the chance to catch up with the whole gang.

We closed out the day piled in a giant half-circle, sleeping dogs draped over half of us, playing games. If my good fortune holds, I'll be sacked out like those dogs in less than 30 minutes. It's a great way to end a superior day.

Manifest Destiny

Inspirational song: Pynk (Janelle Monae)

For most of my adult life, I've gotten up early on Thanksgiving morning, to start a turkey by dawn, following my grandmother's example. I didn't know any other way to behave. It was programmed in me at birth. At my own house we rarely worked ahead on any food items except pies, so to have a feast ready to go by early afternoon, hard work started early that morning. Since I moved back in close proximity to family, I haven't needed to make every single dish myself, and it feels almost decadent to make one or two things and call it a day. Tomorrow, I still have to get up early, because what I'm making will take time to cook, but my workload seems deceptively light. Even if I do all of the things I have on my schedule, it's just baking cookies (the dough for which has been chilling in the fridge, and we have already test baked a handful, and approved them), green bean casserole (homemade sauce and fried onions to keep everything wheat-free), and maybe a set of yeasty dinner rolls for friendsgiving in the evening. I'll have such a small workload, I might even be able to catch some of the parade and dog show. I won't know what to do with myself.

Rather than cooking ahead of time, since it is practically pre-ordained that I would never do such a wise thing, my daughters and I got out and drove around town. The roads were horrible. Beyond horrible. But even with the early going-home traffic this afternoon, it wasn't that bad if one stayed on main roads. We saw a lot of folks who underestimated how well their low-slung sedans were going to muscle through knee-high snowplow slush blocking driveways and alleys. I knew better than to attempt any of that.

Instead of our regular Wednesday night game, we took it next door and swapped out a few participants. Some regular members were missing to visit family, and others were here visiting us. We played board games and video games, including a dice game we used to play compulsively back in college called Cosmic Wimpout. We started out with Donner Dinner Party, and all three rounds I was one of the two cannibals who had to try to stay disguised in order wipe out the party before they could be rescued. All three rounds no one was sure enough about my role to vote me out. So technically I won all three rounds. It was literally exhausting to me to carry on the deception, but I kept getting dealt the same role card. It was my destiny to be the evil cannibal. It seems to be a theme this quarter.

Thanksgiving Nachos

Inspirational song: My Hometown (Charlie Robison)

And now all is right in the world, for one cold night. It snowed to beat the band last night, as they predicted it would. We topped out just over a foot. I believe the measurement on our big cube of a compost holder was 13.5 inches. As a bonus, it's heavy wet snow. It meant that it was a drag for the Mr to shovel multiple times, but it also means that the ground will get a thorough soaking as it melts over the next week or two. I'm always down for free water from the sky in my yard. I didn't get a whole lot of sleep overnight, waking dozens of times to check out the window (and toss and turn and never find the proper sleep temperature for my body). When I gave up on sleep and made a fresh pot of coffee around 8 this morning, the snowfall was mostly over. A few flakes blew around this evening, but really, it's done until Friday.

The airport in Denver was shut down overnight, but it opened back up mid-day. My daughter's rescheduled flight in was delayed an additional hour, but eventually she landed and took the bus up the highway to Boulder. We picked her up on the south end of town, and drove through a few neighborhoods, looking at the lights. The star on the Flatirons is a family favorite (I've told that story before, I think), and we went around the Hill, Pearl Street, and around to where we could see the Bandshell. I got a few pictures, but I was more interested in talking than photography.

We had a nice, quiet evening at home. We pooled efforts on dinner, which turned out very well despite a spicing accident. (In a dimly lit cabinet, ground cloves look like the same color as chili powder. Luckily, they don't spoil a taco seasoning when there's enough other stuff to cover it.) We made hot toddys and watched The Mandalorian. Relaxing was the top item on the menu.

Monkey's Paw

Inspirational song: Snow (Rosemary Clooney)

Be careful what you wish for. Yeah, yeah. I've claimed to have learned this lesson several times over. I never really have. How many times since we moved back to Colorado have I whined out loud about wanting a huge snowstorm? There is one outside my window right now. It's beautiful and cold and dangerous, and I love it. But it's also making me just a wee bit miffed. (No, for real, I'm actually annoyed.) Number one child is supposed to be on a flight right now. She should have been airborne, on her way here. She bought a ticket on the red-eye, and would have landed four hours from now. The plan was to take a bus to Boulder, so that everyone involved (her and us) could sleep a little longer, and then her dad was going to pick her up and take her to a gluten-containing breakfast while I slept in a little more.

As the time for the storm approached, there were wild guesses of how severe it was going to be. I had a hard time believing that we here in the shadow of Long's Peak would get all that much accumulation. We usually get the least amount of snow in the whole region. But this storm kind of blew in from the southwest, avoiding that particular mountain, and allowing us to join in the fun. In fact, at the 5 o'clock local news forecast, they thought we would get something like a foot and a half up here. By the 10 o'clock, that had come down some, and the last time I looked it was down even more. But it is still snowing to beat the band out there.

Kid managed to get rescheduled on a later flight. She'll be here about half a day later, but still here. I can't be too mad. We were going to go to Rotary together, but even that was canceled for the storm. The time crunch doesn't exist anymore. She ought to be here for the holiday, and that's the point.

I went outside around 11 this evening, to get some baseline photos of snow depth. I'll have something to compare to tomorrow morning, to see whether it really comes down as predicted. I think they said the heaviest will be from around 3 to 5 am. If I have to pay with a half day less with my family, then I'd like it to be that heavy snow I always ask for.

Bell Epoch

Inspirational song: Do You Want to Build a Snowman (Frozen)

While it’s not fair to say this day was a total waste, I don’t want to make it seem better than it was. Either something I ate in the last few days was plotting to take me out, or a stomach bug decided that my time had come. No one needs to hear the specifics, but suffice it to say my money is on the stomach bug. Thankfully it appears to be of the 24-hour variety, and I expect tomorrow to be much more valuable.

We will have to be up and at ‘em early tomorrow, to get everything done before our daughter arrives for the holiday. I’ll need to do my grocery shopping early too. A monster storm is due by nightfall, just in time for us to worry about the airport running on schedule. So naturally, knowing I need to get up early, I’ve stayed up late, delaying my responsibilities. I’ve been gorging myself at a Kristen Bell smorgasbord. I watched about half of Frozen on the new Disney app before we settled in to marathon more Good Place. We are now about waist deep in season 2. A great distraction from my stomach bug, but not helpful for long term self care. More rest is on tap to heal the rest of the way.

Holiday Crush

Inspirational song: Shout (Wash Park)

Through most of the time that the tickets were on sale, I didn’t expect that we were going to go to the annual rotary holiday ball. We still didn’t have a renter (or even an idea when our condo would be fixed up to rent) when they went up, and although we said we’d get tix once that was done, we just didn’t do it. We kept having surprise bills come in (hello, Murray), and my energy levels fluctuated wildly. This last week, a very kind friend came up to me at the meeting, and said she had two extra tickets from the whole table the hospital foundation bought, and I should seriously say yes already and take them. I agreed. I more informed the Mr we were going than asked, but he didn’t fight me too hard on it. I promised him we didn’t have to dress too fancy, and that sealed the deal.

The same eleven-member cover band as last year performed. I enjoyed them every bit as much this year as before. My ears are still ringing (more than usual). I didn’t get all the way onto the dance floor, just to avoid a sudden change in position if my balance or energy were to cut out on me in the heat of the crush. I did, however, stand next to our little table, grooving away through both sets. I can pretend I danced, even if my feet barely left the floor, and I rested my hand on the back of a barstool for most of it. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. This was dancing.

We may have gone casual this year, but looking around the room at how a bunch of the ladies were dressed, I’m going to make myself a promise for the future. Next time, I’m going to wear sequins and/or beads. The lighting was just right, and I wanted to be sparkly just like those other women. Next time.