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The beginning of the end.
Feb. 1st, 2010 10:53 amWelcome February! Your arrival brings us one month closer to 70 degrees and sometimes, by the end of you, the first flowers have sprouted up. Better watch out winter, 'cause February could cut a bitch! Sometimes. With usually a bit of a relapse at least once in March and sometimes April.
Anyway, despite having kind of a crappy weekend, health wise, I forced myself back out for several hours of snow fun with Jonah yesterday. I mean, really, how often do we get an honest to god snow around here? You've got to exhaust all the possibilities for snow fun while you've got it. The neighbors just so happened to be getting out with their kids and their little sledding saucers while we were getting out to check the consistency as things began to melt to see if we had snowball/snowman material yet. Not yet, but it was happening in the sunny areas. So we went to join them for about an hour of sledding. Jonah got freaked out when I pushed him down the hill with an all clear, but about halfway down, a car came running up the road pretty quickly, actually. The poor boy had a look of shear terror in his face as he scrambled off the sled and tried to gain footing on the icy road to get to me. He didn't want to do anymore runs down the street after that. So I let him go down the sidewalk once, then we borrowed the sled as they left to go in for lunch and we went down the hill behind the playground/pool area a couple of times. I even went down with him. Was pretty fun, despite the snow up the back.
By the time we got back to the yard, we had a large area of what was fast becoming prime snowman material. So, I got to work as Chris showed Jonah how to peg me with snowballs from stuff he scraped off the car. I took a break to have a little snowball fight with the boys. Chris was brewing and since he really pegged me hard at one point with what felt like an ice ball, I sneaked around and pegged him inside the garage with one. Then it was back to work. After a while, I had recreated to the best of my ability a snowman with a tennis racket through it's head and one about to hit his own head like a golf ball.
( Let me show you 'em. )
( And, the weekend of waning health. )
ETA: This is fitting, given the subject matter of this post. Bill Watterson looks back with no regrets.
Anyway, despite having kind of a crappy weekend, health wise, I forced myself back out for several hours of snow fun with Jonah yesterday. I mean, really, how often do we get an honest to god snow around here? You've got to exhaust all the possibilities for snow fun while you've got it. The neighbors just so happened to be getting out with their kids and their little sledding saucers while we were getting out to check the consistency as things began to melt to see if we had snowball/snowman material yet. Not yet, but it was happening in the sunny areas. So we went to join them for about an hour of sledding. Jonah got freaked out when I pushed him down the hill with an all clear, but about halfway down, a car came running up the road pretty quickly, actually. The poor boy had a look of shear terror in his face as he scrambled off the sled and tried to gain footing on the icy road to get to me. He didn't want to do anymore runs down the street after that. So I let him go down the sidewalk once, then we borrowed the sled as they left to go in for lunch and we went down the hill behind the playground/pool area a couple of times. I even went down with him. Was pretty fun, despite the snow up the back.
By the time we got back to the yard, we had a large area of what was fast becoming prime snowman material. So, I got to work as Chris showed Jonah how to peg me with snowballs from stuff he scraped off the car. I took a break to have a little snowball fight with the boys. Chris was brewing and since he really pegged me hard at one point with what felt like an ice ball, I sneaked around and pegged him inside the garage with one. Then it was back to work. After a while, I had recreated to the best of my ability a snowman with a tennis racket through it's head and one about to hit his own head like a golf ball.
( Let me show you 'em. )
( And, the weekend of waning health. )
ETA: This is fitting, given the subject matter of this post. Bill Watterson looks back with no regrets.
