AntiSnow Dance

This is what it has come down to- me against the snow! I know in California they are praying for rain and snow to alleviate their serious drought conditions. But here? I'm dancing my hooves off in an effort to appease the SnoGods (if there are any) and make it stop already. I've heard up to 18 inches in Litchfield County! Nothing to do but bake cookies, vacuum the stairs, work in my studio, take antibiotics and watch the old bump drain. (It is diminished.) The only thing that has improved is the temperature, hovering around the balmy mid-twenties,
Bob has secured the biggest pile of wood ever, indoors.

I share his desire to not have to go out later when there is another foot of snow to bring in the evening's wood. Especially as this white disaster is going to turn to freezing rain and rain later, and then back to snow. Nothing is made better by a coating of ice, especially not my mood. So that's it for now; I'm off to perform round three of my snow cessation dance.

In Denial

So forget it! No matter how you beg and plead, I am not discussing my hatred of this weather. Nope, no harangues about snow and freezing rain and shoveling and wet gloves and messy, dangerous road conditions. Just not going to happen.
You just cannot get me to mention white, chilly, useless, was-fluffy-this-morning-and-now-has-crust stuff. Not going to happen on this blog.
Let's ponder the upcoming Olympics... but then again, those are WINTER sports and require that precipitation that dare not mention its name.
So how about food? How about an obscene appraisal of all the many things I've been consuming because of the cold and dark season? I suspect I have company in the vain attempt to drown my winter doldrums in the consumption of random calories... oh! splendiferous rolls of abdominal fat! Lipids and jiggly bits!

That does look kind of cool, though. Bob made theses arrangements back in the fall and they've held up remarkably well. That cone shape is perfect. See? I am capable of cheering up for three minutes. Maybe someone could stage an intervention. Please come to the Bauhaus Chicken Coop and whisk me away to a warm, sunny climate... just for a week or two. I'm not even fussy; I have no specific destination in mind. The only requirement is no cold white stuff. No ice crystals. Just warmth, maybe some colorful birds chirping and perhaps a palm tree or gigantic tropical flower or two. But maybe first send me to fat farm...