The trees have got their bling on again. Snow-sparkle ephemeral diamond gorgeousness. Yesterday, when I drove home the fog was so dense it was BLACK. Have you ever driven through black fog? It was creepy as all get-out. It was only when other car’s lights hit it that I could see the whiteness. It’s been FURRRREEZING this whole week, in the minus teens celsius. Then I drove Karin to soccer practice…outdoors. -11 degrees celsius, fog so thick they couldn’t see halfway across the field and still, an hour and a half practice on snow-covered (unswept) artificial grass. CURRRRAZY.
I’m adding the URRRR as in BRRRR.
Hoary birches (make sure you read that right, haha!)
So much for the never-mentioned, mental-only resolution to write more often. I just looked up and dammit if another week hasn’t gone by while I was working my ass off at work, working on projects at home, being REALLY grumpy and PMS-y but managing to keep most of the ranting to myself (cue husband snorting in disbelief, also children rolling eyes). If they think it was bad, they really have NO idea of what was actually going on in my head. Restraint, par excellence, I swear.
Work is INSANE. Add that to the grump, times it up by 10 and it makes for a VERY GURRRRUMPY lizardek. I keep trying to shake it but the only thing that will get it off my back, I suspect, is time. Either that, or another vacation. The problem with vacations is, while I’m getting my relax on, things are piling up back there at the office, which just stresses me out even more thinking about it. Argh. Gah.
Was having a very very selfish flash earlier this week. Did not want to come home and have to cook for anyone else or do laundry for anyone else or clean up after anyone else or even TALK to anyone else. I needed a hole to crawl into and growl for awhile. I still need it, on reserve. Do you ever feel like that or is it just me?
It’s FURRRREEZING in the house right now. The furnace is out of whack and the only way to adjust it is to get down on the floor, behind the laundry room door, nearly flat, and reach your hand in between burning hot pipes and stuff and turn some knob that I can’t even see. Yeah, that ain’t happening. Anders is gone skiing tonight (in below -13.5 celsius weather, what is it with these Swedes??) so I can’t ask him to fix it and Karin refuses to do it because she burned her hand last time.
Did I tell you we are paying double electric bills right now? We are paying for what we are using right now AND we are paying for electricity that we used in 2010 but were never billed for. If there wasn’t a law stating that if a company has forgotten to bill you longer than 3 years ago, we would ALSO be paying for electricity that we used in 2009 but were never billed for, but thankfully there IS such a law. But still, it means double electric bills right now, so there’s just another incentive NOT to turn the heat up, even though it is, as mentioned REALLY REALLY COLD. There’s a draft on my ankles. My fingers are aching, but I type on; that’s how dedicated I am. THAT’S how much I love you.
I’m reading, appropriately, an excellent book with a snow theme. The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey. It’s really, really good and I can’t figure out how it’s going to end, which is ratcheting up my anxiety about the characters and also chilling my fingers into immobility because I have to hold the book outside the covers in order to get the light on the page.
I think I’ll go microwave my dinkel-pillow and take it to bed with me, along with my mukluk slippers. Arctic! BRRRRR!