Snow Daze
Hello. You may not remember me. I used to be known as "Flip Flop Ashlyn", but no more. My new name might sound more like "Stinky Ugg Ashlyn." And that is because I live in a place where one (and by one, I mean all) experiences snow.
This is the view from our front yard. Pastoral, and yet creepy and still.
Here is another outdoor view. There are deer in our backyard, and today one of them ate a piece of apple we set out for them. I love the deer, but our neighbors hate the deer and want them to die.
Also, I saw what can only be described as "attempted sex between two baby deer" the other day in our backyard. It was kind of cute.
So. How do we native Californians handle the snow? When in Rome (or the Midwest), do as the Romans do. Sit inside, stuff as many calories in your mouth as possible, and then just sit there. When I choose to eat something, I ask myself just one question: Which food choice will give me the craziest muffin top? And then I eat something like this cheddar soup:
Washed down with a reindeer-antlered latte:
Inside, some of us enjoy emitting high-pitched screams into the ether when we need to put on clunky snow boots and big poufy jackets with things that annoy us (like zippers, etc.).
Saya loves to be outside always. I have a love-hate relationship with the snow. I prefer to simply know that my daughter has a fun time outside in the snow, while I drink hot tea, read blogs, and wear my Uggs under 14 blankets.
Kris built a snowman with Saya.
There was also a second "snow insect" with 6 legs and antennae. But the 40 degree weather we've had in the last three days means that Frosty and his buglike henchman are no more.
There have also been attempts at making "sugared snow"...a recipe from our neighbor involving boiling maple syrup and butter together and pouring it over snow, where it becomes like taffy. Ours turned out more like Extremely Hard Sugary Stuff. But whatev.
Hot chocolate is totally awesome.
But not as awesome as icicle spears. Or crying when your icicle spear magically disappears due to the Laws of Nature.
In short, we are surviving over here. Thriving, no. Getting fat, yes. But surviving nonetheless.
This is the view from our front yard. Pastoral, and yet creepy and still.
Here is another outdoor view. There are deer in our backyard, and today one of them ate a piece of apple we set out for them. I love the deer, but our neighbors hate the deer and want them to die.
Also, I saw what can only be described as "attempted sex between two baby deer" the other day in our backyard. It was kind of cute.
So. How do we native Californians handle the snow? When in Rome (or the Midwest), do as the Romans do. Sit inside, stuff as many calories in your mouth as possible, and then just sit there. When I choose to eat something, I ask myself just one question: Which food choice will give me the craziest muffin top? And then I eat something like this cheddar soup:
Washed down with a reindeer-antlered latte:
Inside, some of us enjoy emitting high-pitched screams into the ether when we need to put on clunky snow boots and big poufy jackets with things that annoy us (like zippers, etc.).
Saya loves to be outside always. I have a love-hate relationship with the snow. I prefer to simply know that my daughter has a fun time outside in the snow, while I drink hot tea, read blogs, and wear my Uggs under 14 blankets.
Kris built a snowman with Saya.
There was also a second "snow insect" with 6 legs and antennae. But the 40 degree weather we've had in the last three days means that Frosty and his buglike henchman are no more.
There have also been attempts at making "sugared snow"...a recipe from our neighbor involving boiling maple syrup and butter together and pouring it over snow, where it becomes like taffy. Ours turned out more like Extremely Hard Sugary Stuff. But whatev.
Hot chocolate is totally awesome.
But not as awesome as icicle spears. Or crying when your icicle spear magically disappears due to the Laws of Nature.
In short, we are surviving over here. Thriving, no. Getting fat, yes. But surviving nonetheless.
