It's a cold January morning. The snow is still piled high on on the curbs and way into the street. In fact, the local sanitation workers had to shut down the main street and bring in large bulldozers to push the snow into dumpsters and haul it out of town. (Where did they dump all that dirty snow?) This unusual event was much commented on at the Saturday basketball game by the parents in the bleachers.
I'm getting more grouchy about cold days that I used. I suddenly understand why old people pack it up and head down to Florida for shuffle board and gaters. I can't even handle driving five minutes to the local gym today. It's just too painful.
We're in the midst of a three day weekend. Even Steve is home today. We usually take off for adventures on three day weekends. We might go to the Museum of Natural History or visit friends or find a new restaurant in Newark. My attention span is too short to stay at home normally. But I've been defeated by this week-long cold streak. So, we've been uncharacteristically sedentary this weekend. What did we do?
We drew pictures.
We ate peanut butter and nutella sandwiches.
We recovered from sleepover parties.
We watched Cartoon Network.
We read books, while snuggled up under warm afghans.