Melting Snow

So Green We're Still White

All right, full discretion--we have seen a snowplow on our street. Twice. And once on the adjoining street. But those plows are not actually there to clear the roads--which explains why the street didn't look much different after they passed. It turns out that the policy of Seattle and the adjoining cities is to avoid salting the roads or causing any scraping damage. Instead they decided to simply sand, flatten, and pack the snow (often leaving plowed ridges that block side roads). Check out this explanation:

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2008551284_snowcleanup23m.html

The effect: the last few days the city roads have been sanded packed snow. Not a problem for snow tires or cars with chains--until they hit the freeways which the state keeps clear. Today, on the other hand, with rain and a few degrees higher temperature, the snow turned to slush. It's like driving in 6 inches of mashed potatoes. Not to mention the places the snow has worn away or been gouged by chains, leaving potholes and washboard ridges. Driving over it today was like driving into the national forest behind North Bend--and that's a dirt road. Yesterday Lar got the minivan up a steep hill on the way to my folks' house. Today we lost traction halfway up, and had to back down and take a three-mile detour.

The Seattle mayor has awarded the city a "B" for snow response. We think he's over-optimistic. Or delusional.

Brown Bishop

A discussion today about elections led me to mention to the children that our country has just elected a black president.

"We have a brown bishop," Alex offered.

Since our bishop is a bald Caucasian, I had to ask what he meant.

"He wears a brown jacket," Alex explained. "That makes him a brown bishop."

Snow Day III

Lar decided to work from home today, after several more inches of snow last night, on top of an ice layer. Freezing rain early Sunday morning left a layer of ice, window-glass thick, on top of several inches of snow. Walking on it sounded like the boom of hollow floorboards. Katherine loved sticking her arm under the ice, making horizontal snow tunnels as long as her arm. Today warmed up a bit, so we had water dripping off our deck forming long icicles on the wisteria, and the sticky snow was finally perfect for snowmen. The kids and I put one together in just a few minutes, but as we were trying to figure out how to decorate it Lar came out and proposed modifications. A few minutes pushing with him gave us a snowball as high as our waists. I left mid-project to try to round up sledding buddies, but Lar persevered and built a monster snowman, using a ramp of two-by-fours to roll the second huge snowball on top of the first one (the snowball collected chalk outlines from where the kids drew on the boards this summer). Like the Egyptian pyramids, this engineering feat caused much wonder. We found a schoolmate of Katherine's a few blocks away (Katherine knew where his house was because he gets off the bus right before she does) and invited him over; he showed up with his Mom, Dad, older sister on skis, and family dog. Great times.

Put that together with water-coloring this morning, playing the piano, visiting the neighbor, and having family home evening (impromptu fasting lesson plus a super-impromptu game of Jaredite barge) it has been a full day! The snow is so deep and sticky I feel just as if I'm back at Snoqualmie pass, minus the skis. Weather reports predict one more day of this, a possible light snowfall, and then rain, rain, rain. That's winter, Seattle-style.

Bedtime Ailments

When Katherine goes to bed, she starts to notice all sorts of things about which she decides it is imperative to inform us. Here are a few that we've heard in the last month:
--I'm thirsty
--My throat hurts
--My tummy hurts
--My forehead hurts
--My skin is dry
--My finger itches
--My hair is rubbing my neck
--My bed makes me more awake
--I feel too stretchy
--I just don't feel right

Dreaming of a White Kirkland

For all you naysayers who don't believe in snow:

Snow Day II

A snow day in Seattle is practically a city holiday. Offices cancel appointments, stores close, people stay off the roads if they can (wise, because the radio has been reporting accidents all over town). School is canceled, kids are sledding, everybody's out walking. We see neighbors we haven't seen for months.

If it is a holiday, Alex could be the mascot. He and Katherine were out sledding earlier, and then after we walked to the store Alex kept playing. Dad and I went out with him. He loved sledding ("fast, Grandpa!), laughed when we chucked snowballs at the shed, assaulted us with snow whenever he could (he's too little to make a snowball, so he just had to try to plaster handfuls right onto us), loved pretending the fence was a snow fort, and gamely tried to find a stick "for smacking a snow-covered tree." It was a pretty skinny stick, so he wasn't able to knock much snow down, but he enjoyed the effort. He was very impressed when I started catching snowflakes with my tongue--"do it again, Mommy!" To a three-year-old boy, snowstorms are nothing but fun.

So Katherine stayed home today (this snow day actually had snow), Lar stayed in because he didn't want to drive back up the long hill when he came home, we decorated the tree, pulled the kids on a sled to the store, had hot chocolate, and danced to Christmas music. Half to cram all the snow adventures into one day, because we never know when it will snow again. Although this snow looks like it'll be around for awhile.

Happy snow day.

Half Naked

When Alex comes out of the bathroom with a bare bottom:

Laramie: Go put some clothes on. Don't run around naked!

Alex: I'm half naked!

Laramie: Well, it's the wrong half.

Snow Day

When I woke up this morning I wondered if school would be canceled for snow--they'd been talking about it the night before. I listened to the radio and checked the website, but didn't see anything for Kirkland, so I roused Katherine. Laramie had to stumble out of bed to tell me that yes, school in the Lake Washington district was in fact canceled. Oops.

But it was an easy mistake to make. There was no new snow on the ground, nothing different from yesterday. Today is so much warmer than the last few days that the ice on our street has finally melted to slush, there's water dripping off our roof, and patches of blue sky outside. So why was school canceled? Because there was a chance it would snow.

Ye residents of Idaho, Utah, Colorado, and Massachusetts, remember that Seattle has many inexperienced snow drivers, few snowplows, and lots of hills, as you laugh your heads off.

Snow

There's two inches of snow on the ground, and this morning the temperature dipped to 19 degrees, breaking a 44-year-old record. But that hasn't fazed Alex. When I asked him to get pants on this morning, he reappeared in the hallway with his swimsuit and said, "I want to play in the sprinklers!"

We went sledding instead.

Cathedral Scheme

Katherine has decided we should build me a cathedral, since I really love them. She says we can put it next to our house ("We don't really need the lawn, do we, Mommy?") or have it somewhere else ("like Grandpa's cabin isn't by his house"). For labor, she suggests we put up a sign to tell people that they can pay money to help build the cathedral. Sounds great to me! Who's in?

Alex says

I want broken pajamas with no feet. (Two piece pajamas)

Wishes

Found my exercise band--that's one wish granted, and it's not even Christmas yet!

Umbrella Lessons

Katherine decided a few weeks ago that she needed an umbrella, so we found her a very cute one at Goodwill. As soon as she got home, she offered to teach Alex "Umbrella lessons." Every so often she renews the offer, and they go out on the porch where she helps him open and close the umbrella. I guess umbrella teaching is yet another field with a lax certification process.

What I really want

Can haves, can't haves, might haves, might never haves--these are the ones I can think of

--books that are as fabulous as the dragon series by Novik
--annual reports from the British Portable Antiquities Scheme, because nothing makes for fun family reading like illustrated archaeological reports
--a vacuum cleaner that works--hey, I'm vacuuming again (now that baby rolls around on the carpet finding things)
--a piano bench that's tall enough without textbooks piled on top
--my banister
--and my fence
--to fix the leak in my kitchen faucet
--replacements for my broken blinds
--the Leavitt calendar
--a medieval calendar
--long sleeved Shade-type shirts
--warm cute cardigans and cardigan lessons
--to learn how to play really complicated jazzy chords
--to find my missing exercise band
--cute pants that fit
--a designer's advice on where to hang my framed pictures
--fun dates
--the perfect plan to arrange the kids in bedrooms without losing my study
--nice soft lovely background music that is real classical music and not muzak
--peace and QUIET

Baby Art

Becca has discovered a fabulous new pastime: spit up on the floor, then fingerpaint with it! What fun.

A simple solution

(Alex, on seeing that the Kitchenaid cord was dangling off the counter)

Alex: The floor needs to be higher, mommy.
Me: Why?
Alex: Because the cord is falling down. That means it will stretch and break if it's not on the floor. So we should make the floor higher.