In my laundry room, there's a huge old rug stretched across the concrete floor, and the room has been puppy-proofed to the best of my ability. Maybe not Belle-proofed (I think that's pretty much impossible!) but at least dangerous, tempting items like window cleaner have been moved to higher shelves.
It would be such a cozy spot for Belle and Max to snuggle down out of the frigid temperatures, but when I tried again to coax them inside the second time last night, they refused to even venture downstairs. Max just barked from his bed on the front porch and I could hear Belle pitter-pattering on the back deck above me. After calling and calling, and shivering and shivering, I finally just said "'night, then" and shut the door.
This morning they were both still alive and well, all wound up, ready for a walk. Max was limping more than usual, but I have a feeling they played a good part of the night. The cold has invigorated them!
We started out on the road, but the wind on my face was so fierce, I ducked into the woods as soon as possible, the frozen ground crunching under my tennis shoes. Other than that crunch, and the bite of the wind, you'd never know just by looking that it was colder here than it was in Chicago, with and without the wind chill (according to Al Roeker on the Today Show, anyway) because despite the woolen gray sky, we haven't had a flake of snow; there's not even a sprinkling of frost. Everything is just dull green and gray.
Even as my inner grownup chastises me and reminds me how dangerous the snow can be and how some states have been buried in the stuff, my inner child screams "NO FAIR!"
Really now, it's not fair to have to suffer through this cold and not even have the magic of snow to soften the sting, is it? I want icicles trimming the roof or hanging from bare oak branches. I want to watch delicate flakes flutter down onto the rocks and weeds; I want to run out and catch them on my tongue.
I'm really dreaming now, but I want a blanket of snow thick enough to lie in and create snow angels on our road, to build a snowman and to drag Tom's Uncle Reggie's childhood sled to the top of the hill and ride it down.
I want to take lots and lots of photos of snow.
Yes, I know. Be careful what you wish for! Dangerous driving conditions, bursting pipes, branches crashing down, power outages (we've already had those!)... a snow-covered world isn't all magic and fairy tales.
Yes, I know.
But I'm still keeping my fingers crossed that the forecasters are right and snow heads our way tomorrow evening. (I'm also hoping it avoids San Antonio, because someone special has a big day planned Friday and I promised her I would pray it didn't snow there. A complicated request, but I know he can handle it.)
And now, I'm going to go holler at those goofy dogs again. Maybe one night in the cold was enough to convince them they should snuggle on that cozy rug in the laundry room.
For some reason, I doubt it.
Goofy dogs.
Some scenes from our snow adventure last February ... I had forgotten about all of these. I took a lot that day! Remember the little guy in the first photo? Man, I miss that Frankie bird.
