Snow in the South

Here in the south, even minor bouts of snow tend to gob things up for a while. We have a small number of plows and resources to salt/brine only the highways and major roads. Based on this, those of us in the burbs (with no driving-in-snow skill) may be stuck for a while. The joke is about southerners flooding the grocery stores for milk and bread when a flake or two is forecast; I was far more worried about my stock of yarn and wine. I have some nice alpaca for the Aleita Shell and a bottle of Petite Sirah. I'll be fine, for a little while anyway.

Christmas

Christmas is not my favorite time of the year; it has lost it's luster in stages throughout the years. It began with the death of my grandmother. Our core family traditions were centered around her - all attempts at continuing these forever seemed contrived. Then came the end of my first marriage in 1996 - that began the cycle of swapping off (aka "sharing") the kids through the holiday. From there, it became less than it once was when the kids grew up and some of the magic was lost. Since I'm not a religious person, the magic and traditions are what held it together for me. Enter the economic issues - it became more important to focus on needs rather than wants, drawing names to minimize cost and other necessary efforts to balance spending. Top this off with being out of touch with my oldest child and you have the perfect scrooge-like storm.

I'm not saying that any of this could have been changed. I'm just trying to trace the path of my current apathy toward the holiday. Isolating the causes feels better than just pointing to overarching bitchiness. (which I will admit to, intermittently)

Here's this year's tree (which I struggled to get the will to put up) and the stagecoach ornament above given to me by my parents - a little barb symbolizing the company that acquired the one I work for last year. Perhaps future events will occur that will unwind or reset the way I feel about the holidays. I can only hope so.

The Kitten

I love my car. I bought my car new in 2001. I test-drove virtually every make/model known to man. I was married at the time and could afford to spend more on a car than I likely could now. I grew to love "The Kitten" more every day. It has been kept in pristine condition (spare a few unfortunate parking deck incidences); it has been detailed every four weeks of its life, it has been garaged both at home and work. No one is allowed to eat in the car, but perhaps you can have a small sip of a drink if you are parched. I did allow my beloved Snickers in the back, but only after swaddling the way-back in quilts. The Kitten has 177,000 miles on it; every one of which I have driven myself. So, based on this, you can understand my sadness when some YeeHaw ran into the side of it when Allison went to get a tuna sandwich from the deli. Allison is fine, mercifully. I first rented a Toyota Yaris, which is the chihuahua of cars, graduating to a Nissan Sentra that is very basic. Feel better, Kitten, you'll be home soon.

Impatiens

The shady side of the house is a soupy, mossy mess (due to the weird sprinkler system coverage) and isn't so good for grass, but great for these delicate impatiens. They're not a sophisticated flower, but one of my favorites.

Clearly, I have to move....