still snowing....

ten inches later...

Winter Wonderland

The weather has been quite unpredictable this year on Whidbey Island. According to the locals, this has been a very strange year. First, an unusually long, wet and cold winter/spring. A chilly summer, but a nice warm fall. Winter hit like a thunderbolt about five days ago and it hasn't quit. First snow, that turned to ice. After the nice thick layer of ice, the snow has continued to fall. Spyglass, the road I live on, is a complete sheet of ice. So far I've witnessed around fifteen cars careening down the street at an unsafe angle, completely out of control. Sand and salt trucks are non-existent, plows are, as well. So I've just decided to hole up and ride it out. My car has been stuck behind a gate that I can't get open now that the snow fell, so it has been a strange adventure.

On a bright note: I am house/dog-sitting for some neighbors two houses up the hill. The house is warm, there is a hot tub at my disposal, and the dogs are friendly.

Rocco and Jambo enjoying the snowfall, and disrupting the beautiful snow angel.

Seasonal Gems

I love Thanksgiving and Christmas time for various reasons, but one of the best outcomes of this time of year is the annual revamping of drink and dessert menus. The last couple of years I have been thoroughly enjoying such tasty holiday treats as: pumpkin pie blizzards, pumpkin shakes, eggnog lattes, peppermint ice cream, and the list could go on. Since the season only comes around once a year, I have been reminding myself to take it all in, enjoy the moment, and by all means, don't take any of it for granted.

And because of this, I've decided to pen a poem in honor of my favorite holiday drink: the blessed eggnog latte.

Words for the Nog

I'll miss you eggnog latte.
Why do you have to tease me like you do?
Hanging around for a month or two, and then disappearing.
Only to reappear a year later.
You tricky little bugger.
Quit burning my tongue.

a surprise package

After being away for the day I returned to find a usps box on the step. It had traveled from the farthest point from Whidbey Island in the continental U.S., South Florida. Packages are a rare occurrence for me these days, so I immediately sliced the packaging tape and opened the box. Hidden by the plastic peanuts, there before me lay a towering stack of People magazines.

It seems I am not the only one I know who has a fetish with People. And because of that, I reap the benefits! Thank you Aunt Connie! You rock!

And the end of this little story is...it didn't take but a few minutes before I was reading the first of stack. Don't mind if I do!