The long winter
Its been a long winter. Scratch that - a long February. We didn’t even get a white Christmas here, but there’s a solid five foot mountain of snow on our picnic table. The girls have had ten snow days from school and even Punk has had three.
What is this? This is not a rhetorical question. And why does whatever this is require a lone chopstick?
A car has died on us.
I’ve had to shovel the drifts away from the outdoor vents four times (and they’re three feet off the ground).
The trampoline has a permanent ice rink on it, that even the pros agree is not going anywhere.
The ice has to be chiseled from under the garage door almost every time we open it.
The dog actually climbs under the blanket at night.
It hurts to go get the mail.
We’ve even taken pity on the squirrel who keeps trying to move into our garage. I set out peanuts and some frozen blueberries and told him to make himself comfy - we’re all in this together.
But it’s not the windchill that will be my undoing.
Won’t be the snow shoveling or the stalled car that puts me over the edge.
Most likely won’t even be the scurvy and rickets we’re undoubtedly acquiring from lack of sun and fresh fruits.
My ultimate demise will be the constant,
relentless,
infinite
(and might I add expensive)
crafting.
Child three cannot stop. And the longer she’s inside the worse it gets. I’m all for creativity, but I need a break.
I wake up to the smell of hot glue. There are sequins in the Cheerios. Every stray paper we own has been folded into an origami something or other. I can’t find my sewing machine or half of the fabric that goes with it. My nachos have a not-so-subtle hint of hot sculpey infused with the cheddar, and I think I’ve eaten more glitter than I’ve ever worn.
This is not a drill.
This is my house.
JUST TODAY!
IN JUST TWO HOURS!
What is this? This is not a rhetorical question. And why does whatever this is require a lone chopstick?
I think this is a dragon.
Sewing. Sew. Much. Sewing.
These are cute, but just make me some real donuts, or brownies, or even nachos that don’t taste like polymer.
More dragons. Each dragon takes $5 of clay, two feet of tin foil, an hour in the oven and various odds and ends to produce. This is one of five.
I can’t even pretend to know what’s going on here. But that giant-ass paintbrush is terrifying me.
I didn’t even get photos of the half-finished Pom-Pom creature or balloon animals, or stress balls - which I am hanging onto for dear life. Send help.
Comments
1. She is making a mess outside.
2. You get to pretend it's spring when you make said frigid walk to the mailbox.
That or buy airplane tickets for everybody to Florida, which is usually a crazy-a&$ state but is looking better and better right now.
I've about had it with winter - anyone who knows me is worried about my mental health. This is my 54th winter and I've been displeased with all of them. In the last week, I've taken a painting class, ordered painting supplies, canvases, bought yarn, crochet needles and watched hours of crocheting and mandala painting YouTube videos. If you're around on spring break, can I come over and play or can Neeks come play at my house?