Shitton of Snow, Driving Hard, and Still Boring

I feel really bad for my car, Ms. Fugi. What with the chains (bondage) and the keeping in first gear all the time while hauling tail up and down the slippery mountain. I drive her as if she were a truck. She is dirty and neglected and covered in ice. At least it’s only once or twice a week. If it were everyday I fear she would break like your mother did.

There’s really not much to report other than I wish the cats would vacuum and make mama a cocktail.

Happy Solstice

Tomorrow one of my favorite people is traveling from afar to the cabin for a bit with her dog-person and her person-person. And the sun is out for the first time in a long time (I have apparently brought the Seattle Soul-Sucking Grays). And the kittens are frolicking. And I’m going to attempt to use the snow blower/tractor/thing because after spending two fruitless hours shoveling yesterday, I realized that I am old and although I’m getting my girlish figure back, other things hurt when exercised. I think maybe I have tennis elbow from the shoveling. Also, my butt hurts.

Other than that, my 3am worrying came up with this last night: If solstice technically hits at 11:07pm tonight, which day really would one measure the sun hitting it’s highest point? Today or tomorrow? But, I have probably missed it because I’m chronically late. No matter, I can see the blue sky and from now on the days will get longer. There are no apple trees to talk to about their yearly harvest, but there is a maple tree. I’m pretty sure you’re rolling your eyes right now.

Dear Chocolate Milk,

I miss you so much when you’re gone. How I long to pour you into a glass with your friends, Smirnoff and Kahlua.

I’ll see you at the store, my love.

A

Wherein I cut my own hair

On my head. It’s just like in the movies. I grabbed chunks of it and had crappy scissors that made that sound, you know, that sound (slice!), and the hair fell to the counter in globs. It was only a coupla inches, but it was very dramatic to do myself. Luckily my hair is wavy and wiry and forgiving. It always looks the same anyway.

Also, I’ve watched the entire series of Farscape, Xena, and Battlewhore Galactica, and now I’m watching the favorite episodes again. Getting only three channels and having dial-up that doesn’t tolerate streaming videos is going to kill me. Maybe this is what will get me out of the woods and into the real world. Who knew TV media would help me move forward?

Cabin Fever is a real thing. It used to mean hot sex, but no more of that ever; it means cutting your own hair and drinking too much coffee and wine and driving yourself INSANE.

Ms. Sanchez

By popular demand, here’s a picture taken today of Ms. Chili Pepper Sanchez blissing out by the fire. In fact, this morning she was so happy the fire was on that she momentarily forgot her senses and touched it with a paw. I’ve been standing vigil all day with her in case it blisters.

For those of you who don’t know Chi Chi, let’s just say she’s almost one card short of a deck but often surprises her sister and I with her talents and consistent mood.

Kindred Spirits,

Would you believe me if I said Lucky Lou senses deer? She tells me to open the window early in the morning when they are there, and follows them from window to window and talks to them. This deer was very curious about LL and kept trying to smell her scent in the air. She didn’t seem afraid though, and kept watching LL in the window. The mama deer was laying nearby, and a sibling was too busy chewing on branches to pay attention.

I wrecked it all by stumbling out with a cooler to load into the car. I was hoping I could leave on the other side of the cabin without scaring them off, but then all sorts of cursing occurred while I was putting chains on the car. I imagine that deer are prissy, especially with the f-bombs.

Anyway.