Somebody forgot to tell Mother Nature that the weatherman predicted snow OF CATASTROPHIC PROPORTIONS FOR ALL OF NORTHWEST INDIANA! SNOW!! IN NORTHWEST INDIANA!
Now I'm all for the drama and all, but Geeze Louise...
Several months ago, Aunt Chrissy and I made a pact to stop watching the news. We were getting all caught up in the urgency of everything and we found ourselves walking around like vibrating tuning forks waiting for the world to end. Most of it was caused by our weatherman (waving a big hellooooooo to Mike Hoffman!), who seems to love standing in front of his green screen yelling about this or that and terrorizing the old people with threats of something falling from the sky.
(Now before you go and get all offended about the old people remark, may I just point out that I am one of said old people, and I rush off to the grocery store the very moment a cloud passes within eighteen miles of my house.)
So I'm sitting here waiting for the snow while Stewey harumphs on his perch and the sun shines brightly. Oh well, at least the pantry is full. (Just in time for me to pack it all up and deliver it to the TeeVee station for their food drive this Saturday).
I reeeeaaaalllllyyyyy need to get a better plan. Sigh.
Thoughful Heart is rocking along:I didn't do this on purpose, but it looks like I might actually have this one finished in time for Valentine's Day. (Oh, I think I'm supposed to turn my head and spit three times between my fingers while says "kenahura" after I say that.) (And allow me to apologize right now for mis-spelling and mis-pronouncing "kenahura".)
("Kenahura" is basically counting your chikens before they hatch. It's like inviting fate to screw up the thing that you just pronounced as finished, won, gained, etc.)
(At least I think so. I'm kind of famous for screwing up words and using them in COMPLETELY inappropriate ways.)
But anywhoose....when I get this piece done (ptoo ptoo ptoo kenahura), then I think I'm going to treat myself to a lovely frame from the Michaels and then hang this in my bedroom. Stewey wants it over his little night night bed, but methinks it will go nicely behind my fancy-pants reading chair instead.
Don't feel toooo sorry for him, kids. That little night night bed is what he hops into when he gets his two cookies before bed or whenever he's pouting and wants me to feel bad that I'm using the vacuum cleaner during one of his favorite TeeVee shows. He doesn't actually ever sleep in the darn thing (I mean, after all, that's why we have the big gyrl sleigh bed, right?), but I just can't bring myself to get rid of it.
Well, I'm off to the laundry room. Yet again. One last load to wash, dry, fold, and then put away so I can start all over again tomorrow. Cwap.