Worst...winter...ever

Maybe I'm just more in tune with the awful weather now that I rely on reasonably ice-free streets to do my much-loved running. Maybe that's why it seems so horrible.

But really, nobody could think that this was a pretty sight.



We had a doozy of an ice storm last night. In the middle of the night, a giant limb fell on our wires and Steve (rockstar!) went out in the freezing rain and managed to get it down. We never (knocking on wood here) lost power or cable, two things that managed to keep me relatively sane today.

It just seems like we've had a lot of tough luck this week. Our car heater broke. We needed to call an electrician, again. Our backyard is a limb graveyard. The storm froze our sump pump pipes causing flooding in the basement. We had a drain clog that smelled as if our previous owners planted a dozen rotten hard-boiled eggs in the pipes, you know, just for fun.

This is really all true. I tried to be all "let's make the best of this winter wonderland" by going for a walk this afternoon, but it was short-lived because neither Penny nor Fife could figure out how to maneuver on the icy sidewalks. But, as always, Penny looks fantastic.



This blog will have no punchline, as my alcoholic jokes are probably getting old. On a positive note, I'm listening to an all-Christmas Pandora station and this is the song I'm listening to:

" 'Don't forget to call collect on Christmas.' Those were the last words I heard my mother say. 'While I'm sitting all alone, I'll be waiting by the phone. Son I want to hear your voice on Christmas day.' "

And some people don't love this season. Go figure.