Since I had to go in at 6, it wasn't light enough to see how much snow was really on the ground. By the time I left for work-- having had electricity to get ready this time, thank goodness-- it was snowing pretty hard. I was tempted to call in sick, because I really, really wanted to stay home and play in the snow.
And by play in the snow, I mean sitting inside with my knitting, sipping hot chocolate while watching the snow falling outside my window.
Wait, you thought I meant outside? In the cold and in the wet? No, I don't think so.
But, knowing it would be all gone by 9:00 anyway, I decided not to waste a call in, so I went to work. Sure enough, by the time I got off, it was mid 40s and the snow was gone. The official word from Jackson is that they got 1.7 inches. The guy who orders our skids said there was snow everywhere at his house.
Grenada just doesn't get a lot of snow, even when everywhere else is getting it. Snow, that is.
The good news is, James got a deer.
The bad news is, my cat is not normal.
She won't chase the red dot, either. Sigh.
The knitting mojo is still wandering off somewhere. I tried to cast on a hat last night, and didn't even get through the cast on before I was ripping it out.
I'm not going to worry, though. It'll come home when it gets hungry enough.
That's what my mother always said about our cats.
That reminds me of a story. It is totally not related to anything I just posted, so I don't know how I thought of it, but nevertheless, I did.
When I was about 4 years old, we -- as in my family-- went on a big, long camping trip. Once we were back home, my daddy set up our tent in the back yard to let it air out really well before packing it away. My older brother and I, and two of our neighbor boys decided we were going to spend the night in the tent.
We were having a great time, telling ghost stories and all, when the three boys suddenly decided that they all needed to go to the bathroom. I stayed in the tent.
I waited and waited, they didn't come back. I think I actually fell asleep for a while, and when I woke up, they still weren't back. I went and knocked on the back door, of my own house. Why I didn't just go inside is beyond me, but I didn't. I knocked.
When my mother answered the door, I asked her where Russell was, because he said he was going to the bathroom but he didn't come back. She told me he'd been in bed for 30 minutes, and it was time I got in bed, too. I turned to go back out to sleep in the tent, but my mother wouldn't let me. She made me come into the house and sleep in my bed.
I was so disappointed that I couldn't sleep in the tent that night.
And you know, I don't think we ever went camping again after that. Until Cody was in cub scouts, that is. We did enough camping then that I have no desire to do it any more.
Except maybe in an RV, at the lake or something like that.
But I've had my fill of tents.