Outsiders' Thoughts On Snow

A few months back, after we got our first big snow, Roxy (who you may recall is a VISTA working on the Writer's Project) sent out an e-mail asking us VISTAs for a little written reaction to the snow.  She's since created a wiki for the project, and included all the stories on one page: right here.  I contributed, of course, but the entries are anonymous.  If you decide to read through them (and you should, they're lovely) and you see one that you think MUST be mine, be sure to leave me a comment!  I will tell you this much.  I wrote about a specific incident rather than general observations.

Photo by Go Marlinton!

Walk In The Rain

Once upon a time, I would have balked at taking my dogs for a walk in the rain.  And then I got a job walkin dogs and realized that there are many worse conditions in which to walk dogs.  Rain is actually pretty refreshing!

So I took Vista and Summer a little ways along the Greenbrier River Trail, which we had all to ourselves.

I love the bridge over Knapp's Creek.  I really, really do.  During the walk, we discovered that Vista had absolutely no traction on it in the rain!  It was like canine bumper cars!

This was actually taken the day before on another walk.  All that's left of the thick ice that covered the creek.

When we got home, I realized how spoiled I'd gotten owning a water dog.  Vista is a no-hassle, drip-dry model.  Summer is a sponge.  A sponge who jumped out of the car and immediately stuck her face in the mud.  After I attacked her with a towel, she looked like she'd just had her hair done by a punk rocker.

She looks contemplative, doesn't she?  She isn't.

Later on, I left them to run some errands (I usually cart them with me, but one drying experience was enough for me), and returned to discover that Vista had removed four pairs of my pajama pants, which live in a cloth basket on a bottom shelf, and placed them randomly around the room.  Two pairs were still folded.  Thank you, Vista?

And so ends today's edition of Life With Beasts.  Two of them are going back home this weekend, but it's been fun!  Everything smells like dog and if I died tonight my autopsy would show massive amounts of black fur in my lungs.  But other than that, fun!

I Love You More Than Applesauce

Happy Valentine's Day!  Ironically, it is happy for everyone except Summer (pictured above, in VDay deelybobbers she later consumed), who is spending her day at the vet getting her teeth cleaned.  Vista seems vaguely concerned that I might decide to drive her into Virginia and leave her there, too.  Worry not, Vista.  Your teeth are ridiculously clean.

Anyway, on the subject of things which rot your teeth, here is my very favourite poem, from a book of Valentine's Day poetry by Jack Prelutsky that my mom gave me when I was little.  This was always my favourite one, because I enjoy both love and sugar.  It's also formed the basis on which I base my declarations of love.  If I tell you "I love you more than applesauce," take it in the context of someone who both really, really loves applesauce and this poem.

I Love You More Than Applesauce
I love you more than applesauce,
Than peaches and a plum,
Than chocolate hearts,
And cherry tarts,
And berry bubble-gum.

I love you more than lemonade,
And seven-layer cake,
Than lollipops,
And candy drops,
And thick vanilla shake.

I love you more than marzipan,
Than marmalade on toast;
For I love pies
Of any size,
But I love you the most.

In Which We Remember To Press Rewind

There are a few movies I only have on VHS--and, of course, I don't have a VCR.  Jamie has a VCR but no tv.  Clearly, it's a match made in heaven.  We had to cannibalize the DVD player for cords, but it was worth it.  When I discovered that Jamie hadn't seen the entirety of either Singin' in the Rain OR Dead Poets Society, we dove in with those.  Discoveries: it is impossible to watch Singin' in the Rain without singing along, and DPS still makes me cry, even when I close my eyes and cover my ears.

Maybe you don't have a VCR or either movie on VHS, but here are my favourite scenes from each, for your consideration.

"Moses Supposes."  This was accompanied by this actual conversation:

Jamie: What are those shoes called?
Me: Saddle shoes.*
Jamie: Oh, right.  I want to go as them for Halloween.
Me: As...saddle shoes?
Jamie: What?  No.
Me:  Oh.  Um.  Oh, you mean dressed like them?
Jamie: (laughs) Yes.

*I was wrong, James, they're spectator shoes.  Also, here's this handy girl's guide to dressing as Don Lockwood!

After we got our dose of musical, we put in Dead Poets Society, which I fervently adored about 10 years ago, but hadn't seen since.

Skip to 2:38 for the best part.  O Captain, My Captain.

I find it odd and a little enchanting that the more advanced our technology gets, the more thrilling the older stuff is.  Who knew getting a VCR could be such a treat!  Of course, I started reminiscing about my family's old BetaMax, and no one knew what that was (plus I got the distinct impression they thought I was making it up).  And I just felt old.  Or crazy.

In Which A Turtle Is Constructed

I love snow.  Adore it.  Some people look forward to the Spring melt, and I'll get there, eventually, but in my world extreme weather (blizzards, strong winds, thunderstorms--especially thunderstorms) trump pretty sunny days.  I like my weather exciting. 

A couple weeks ago, we had some snow on the ground, which I've come to realize is a surprisingly rare thing here.  I guess it's how we're situated, surrounded by mountains, but we're almost always passed over when snow comes through.  Anyways, we had some snow, the roommates were out of town, and I had a house full of beasts, so I thought we'd take advantage of the conditions and build a snowman.  As it turned out, there wasn't enough snow for a proper human, so we made a snow turtle.

Can you see it?  Don't worry, you will.

We had (and still do have, come to think of it) about a million different varieties of carrots in the house for some reason, so they were used as decor.

Still can't see the turtle?  Here, how's this?

Summer was hiding from Vista between my legs the entire time I worked on this, and quickly realized that the decor was edible.

So its days were short-lived.  By the end of the next day, all the snow in the yard was melted, anyways.  Now we have acres of mud.  Yeck.

Oh, Sam was there, too.

(In related news, I'm writing this at my kitchen table across from Emily, who has just started quoting Oliver Twist at the weather report of snow--"Please sir, I want some more!")