The Things We Do For Snow

Last night, the meteorologist said that snow was imminent. I went to bed repeating the mantra 'tomorrow I will be industrious' the subtext being: 'I will get off my lazy butt and do what I've been putting off'. Apparently I am my own best subliminal motivation technique because I woke up uncharacteristically rarin' to go. I gathered all the trash and recycling, bagged and canned it, and had it on the curb by 8 am.-- a good twenty minutes before my industrious neighbour. That was a very satisfying feat.

I finished my morning coffee and moved on to turning last night's scrumptious pot roast extravaganza into a delectable soup perfectly suited to the observation of this evenings snowflake ballet. Then it was off to the litter box to play archeologist sifting through the sands of ancient civilizations. This was followed by a thorough spa experience for each of my four felines--combing, brushing, new flea collars and pedicures. Divinity is hard to maintain without proper grooming.

Then I moved on to the vacuuming which included doing over the doorways (thanks, Mom) and the stairway down to my studio. Swept the porch, the garage, and the walkways. While out of doors I gathered up branches that had fallen, mulched flower beds, replaced fallen rocks from the stone wall and stacked a few more bits of firewood.

Came back in and did the dishes, the laundry, and some needlework. I stirred the pot o' soup and answered emails and finally got around to voting for the next happy California cow. It has been a full day and the soup was worthy of the appetite I developed.

I wish to thank the Gentle Readers who have sent me very gratifying emails regarding my syntactic virtuosity. I owe it all to my education in England, my years on the stage, and all the authors who've invited me into their books.

Now I must ascend the stairs to the card table where I will ignore my mother's skill at stacking the deck and allow her to kick my butt at a few games of Spite and Malice. It's an old family tradition. My grandmother's daily routine revolved around cleaning everything in sight and devotions to her bible and rosary. At night she cheated at cards like a pagan. I adored that woman!!

I believe that certain traditions should be maintained for the preservation of contentment. Besides, if Mom wins big at cards tonight, she's less likely to insist on replacing the shelf liners tomorrow. A home should be clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy. I'm shooting for bliss.