Point is, Myren has a full-blown case of cabin fever. Me?
I’m fine. (So what if the windows are all smudged from having my nose pressed against them all day and I’m having trouble breathing right now.)
I’m making the best of this ridiculously unlivable wondrous weather. We’ve got a roaring fire going here at the castle, a view of pretty 24cialisitalia.com white snow drifts out every window (except for the ones where the drifts are so high they’re blocking the windows) and I’m getting ready to cook dinner–something from a can I found down in the castle store room. Not sure what it is–I can’t read the label with all the dust acheter viagra on it. Or maybe I can’t see because there’s no daylight with all these snow flakes blocking the sun. Stupid Pretty snow flakes.
Gay Head Beach, Martha’s Vineyard
I’m sure this unidentified can of food will be tasty. In the meantime, I’m tapping away at my keyboard working on my novel The Beachcombers. It’s set on a beach. (Okay, I admit I just had a wistful thought about sun and sand.) That’s the beauty of writing novels–I can make stuff up. I can make up a place that hasn’t had any snow for decades and that doesn’t get dark at 4pm or never even gets light out at all (how do those Eskimos stand it?).
The important thing is to enjoy it. Snow is stupid fun. I’ll go skiing tomorrow. As soon as Myren saddles up those sled dogs, we’ll head to the nearest ski resort and enjoy a vigorous day of skiing in the brisk mountain air on fresh snow. It’ll be cold and wet and icky glorious. I can see it now…
What’ your least favorite thing about winter weather?