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!")

In Which My Life Resembles a Sitcom

Have you ever stopped to think about sitcoms?  No, no, hear me out.  I don't watch very many, but it occurs to me that the reason they're hilarious is that many present situations which would be excruciatingly awful in real life.  I know this, because my life has become one.  I am living in a sitcom.

The scene is this: the bedroom is small; cluttered and dark in the pre-dawn hours.  Nothing can be seen on the bed beneath the many comforters.  All of a sudden--chaos.  The cat has decided it's time to get up, and rouses the rest of the bed's occupants by alternately meowing loudly or leaping on them.  The single human occupant wakes suddenly, struggling to free herself beneath the heavy mass of blankets and dogs which have pinned her legs.  Her plan is to stagger to the bedroom door--as she does every morning--to open it just enough for the cat to slip out.  The cat is fully capable of opening the goddamn door himself, but for some reason known only to him, he requires the human to do it for him.  On this morning, somewhere between the bed and the door, the larger of the two dogs decides to join the fun.  The human, blind in the dark, does not notice the large black mass, trips over it, and fall face-first into the narrow wall next to the door.

The cat continues to meow insistently, so she struggles to regain her feet, swearing incoherently at the dog to get back in her goshdarn bed, and accomplishes her goal: the door is open.  The cat slips out.  Human and dog return to bed, where the human, an insomniac who considers any night where she manages to fall asleep at all a damn good one, is wide awake.  She lies in the dark, doing crossword puzzels on her ipod and plotting the death of her beloved cat, until she finally falls back to sleep.  At 4:45 AM.

I have never had so much empathy for Simon (see the video below).

I have so many updates on my current, multi-pet life.  If any of us survive until tomorrow, perhaps I'll write about them.

To Brooklyn and Back

This past weekend's trip to Brooklyn has been months in the making.  Laura dragged herself all the way out to Marlinton in July; returning the favor was the least I could do.  Plus, I like Brooklyn!

 When Laura fretted over not having planned anything to entertain me, I told her that I needed only three things: art, photobooths, and her.  Which pretty much sums up our weekend.

I took the Bolt Bus (which I love) up from DC.  It's easy, cheap, and stops not too far from where Laura works in Manhattan.  On Saturday, we brunched at Bubby's in Dumbo, which is a pie shop.  It also has a photobooth.  As far as I'm concerned, pies/brunch/photobooth is the trifecta of awesome.  Brunch was AMAZING (I had an omelet with apples, bacon, and aged cheddar cheese), and then we gleefully monopolized the photobooth.  I haven't scanned the strips yet, but they're coming.

Dumbo is an area of Brooklyn where both the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges end, (Bubby's is almost underneath the Manhattan Bridge--the above photo was taken just outside of it) so after brunch we decided to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan, which Laura had never done.

It was a beautiful, clear, cold day and the walk was lovely.  We could easily make out the Statue of Liberty, which I'd never seen in person before.  I didn't think it would mean anything to see it and was surprised to find myself rather moved.  Well done, Lady Liberty.

In Manhattan, we decided to head to the Neue Galerie, which I had heard about but never visited.  I was thrilled with their collection of decorative arts works (mainly pieces by Josef Hoffman and Koloman Moser--they're the museum of German and Austrian art), and especially impressed with the decision to use a Moser-designed jewelry display piece to actually display jewelry.  I love it when museums use decorative arts for their designated purpose.  We also caught the tail end of their "Postcards of the Wiener Werkstätte" show, which I loved.

We tried to go from there to the Cooper-Hewitt Museum (the only Smithsonian branch in NY), but found it was closed until February.  Saturday night was a movie night.  We caught The Green Hornet, which, I'm sad to say, was just okay.  And made Laura very angry.

On Sunday morning(ish), we decided to face the crowds and headed to Tom's.  Tom's has been open since 1936 (and even had a song written about it), and is extremely popular.  Like, line-around-the-block popular.  However, at Tom's, the line is part of the experience.  We waited something like an hour to be seated (most of that outside in the cold), but were fed cookies, oranges, sausage, and toast with honey while we shivered.  The food is just a step or two above your basic hearty diner food, but includes some unique options, including throwbacks to its seltzer-era founding.  I had a Cherry Lime Rickey, and learned what a Rickey is.

We decided to spend the afternoon lounging and reading, in the best Kelly-and-Laura fashion, grabbed dinner at a nearby Mexican joint, and then settled it to cast snarky comments at the Golden Globes.  All in all, a good day.

Laura had Monday off, so we went exploring in Park Slope.  The Brooklyn Museum was sadly and shockingly closed (Laura lives so close to it that visiting is practically tradition), so we strolled and munched on goodies from Sweet Melissa (Laura had a truffle, I had a madeleine).  On our way home, we grabbed burgers at Dutch Boy's (medium, with bleu cheese and fries for both of us--SO good), packed me up, and sent me home!

All in all, every visit to Brooklyn makes me love it more (though I can hardly afford to).  Seeing Laura in her natural habitat is always a treat, and as she works in publishing, I was sent home with almost more books than I could carry.

Now I am home, from NY and VA both, and for the next month (or so) will be sitting for the dog and cat which usually live with my parents.  It's been an odd sort of experience for all of us so far, but hopefully we'll settle in.  Vista is (of course) loving it.