I was pre-menstrual! I'm so glad because last night I was convinced that I was absolutely useless as a human. Spending too much time on the Internet can do that to me anyway, and combined with my already bad mood...well, I was doing some serious dwelling on my shortcomings.
In other news, I found H is for horse, but not before I lost I is for Ice Cream. I had left Littleput watching Babe while I came down here into the basement/home office and fooled around on the computer a bit. I know, I know, I'm an amazing mother, you don't have to gush on about it. Anyhow, I heard some noises that were suspiciously similar to the ones I was making on Thursday while I was trying to liberate the alphabet from the dark hole. I rushed upstairs to find that the baby had successfully disposed of my wooden spoon, I, J, and K, and C. I had a minor fit and then went to work trying to dig them out. The spoon was easy once I realized it's handle was sticking straight out of the hole. C is for carrot turned out to be under a blanket, and J and K were easy to rescue. But that damned I is for Ice Cream alluded me. I was fishing around and fishing around with the spoon. Thank goodness I had gotten over my fear of being bitten by a wee beastie down there. Finally I hit something and when I looked down, there was H! A few minutes later I found I and o, I was so happy. I screwed the grate back on immediately and confiscated the alphabet puzzle. Fistula will put some chicken wire behind the grate and until then, no puzzle playing.
In the last few weeks, very little snow has fallen and very little has melted. The result is huge, ugly brown mountains everywhere you look. I've been wishing I had a gigantic blow dryer, so I could make everything pretty again.
This morning the sun was shining and there was a fresh, clean layer of snow on the ground. We decided to take advantage and go for a snow walk. Before Christmas, whenever we'd go for a walk, Fistula would never let Littleput get out of the stroller and walk by herself, or play in the snow, or anything that took time, because he was always in a rush to get back home and back to work. It was sad. Today, I made him promise our first priority would be letting the baby muck about in the snow. We bundled up and walked down to the park where there is a big field of untrodden snow. Littleput crouched down and picked up handfuls of it and mushed it between her mittened hands. She's crazy about snow. She's so proud of herself if she can lift up a big chunk of it, she looks at us and nods ferociously, saying "Dig dee. Doo dag dag dee! Da. DA." Then she laughs her head off. Meanwhile, I fall backwards into the snow while shouting "Timber!" and roll over and over till I'm covered in it. It's a little cold, but whatevs. Under no circumstances can I push Fistula over. I don't have the strength. Every time I try to, he grabs my arm and swings me down to the ground.
From there, we went to the grocery store to buy wine, but discovered we didn't have enough money. I didn't see why we were buying wine in the middle of the day, especially since we had already planned to come back later in the day to buy groceries for supper tonight. Mighty Queen was supposed to be coming for dinner, but she cancelled. We were bitterly disappointed, but I tried to remember that the student life is a turbulent, exasperating, and unpredictable one.
On the way home, I said I wanted a cocoa. I would normally say hot chocolate, but I was doing my impression of Hugh Laurie in this sketch from a Fry & Laurie video I rented. He's an old man that keeps on saying "I want my cocoa. Bring me my cocoa." Oh gosh it's soooo funny, but I guess you have to see it. We had to walk by the coffee shop to get home anyway, so we went in for one. Then Fistula decided he would get the breakfast special for 4.25. I declined to eat. I'm wary of the food in this particular coffee shop, though I have nothing whatsoever against the coffee. So we unbundled and sat down and relaxed and ate and drank. Oh so nice. We did this at a coffee shop downtown last Sunday too. This is the kind of thing normal people do on weekends, I suppose. I love weekends now.
After we put the baby down for her nap, we pulled down the shades to block out the sun and watched Solaris for a while. We haven't finished it, but it seems like it will be waaaaay better than Stalker, the other Andrei Tarkovsky movie I've seen. Solaris at least has a plot, although in a Hollywood movie, that plot could be wrapped up in twenty minutes, not four hours.
Since she woke up we've been doing Hour for Hour, meaning that he looks after her for one hour while I goof off, and then I look after her for one hour while he saves the planet from destruction. Etc. My hour is nearly up. Bye.
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