Snow Envy

It’s snowing in New York.

The status updates of approximately 75% of my Facebook friends started proclaiming it sometime this afternoon, and although it was freezing and rainy here in North Carolina… no snow.  I kept glancing hopefully out the window, half-expecting to see a few flakes floating around, but no luck.  That’s the best kind of snow, I think: the first few flakes, made all the more exciting when they’re so completely unlikely.  Anyway, it was enough to give me a severe case of snow envy this afternoon, and it didn’t help that most of my northern pals seemed most unappreciative!

Admittedly, I get tired of dirty slush around the middle of February, but I love snow.  Really love it.  Like giddy, frolicking, song-singing love it.  Like Lorelai from Gilmore Girls love it.  Like I make this face a lot love it:

“It was the snow.  You know how I get – it’s like catnip!”

I repeat: it’s not snowing here.  But knowing it was snowing at home had me daydreaming about it all day!  Scarves and mittens and boots and fires and cocoa and snow tires… well no, I wasn’t really daydreaming about snow tires.  But it was all a welcome distraction because what I was really doing all day was cleaning my house.  It’s become the day-off norm around here.  Either I’m getting really good at being a grown-up, or I need to develop a new sense of fun (or maybe both?).  Because I don’t mean “cleaning” as in dusting and vacuuming (although I did that, too).  I mean “cleaning” as in taking down all the blinds in the house and soaking them in the bathtub, and scrubbing the baseboards with vinegar, and vacuuming the ceiling.  Yup, the ceiling.  All in the name of domestic bliss.

Now that Sarah and I have decided that we’ll be camping out here in the Palmetto Palace for more than a couple months, we’re going into super-duper cleaning, rearranging, and decorating mode.  I actually feel like I’m settling in more than I have in the two and a half years of (seasonally) living here, which is nice.  It’s comfortable.  And it’ll hopefully make the place more “ours” and less ‘70s-tastic.  We’ve already organized the bathroom closet and hung our pots and pans in a charmingly quaint arrangement above the sink.  Yes folks, these are thrilling updates!

So, friends and family far and near, I have one simple request for each of you.  If you’re in the north, go out and play in the snow for me.  And if you’re in the south, do you have a steam vacuum I could borrow?

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