First day of December, first day of Holidalies blogging. For the past week or so, each morning when I awake I glance outside to see if there is snow on the ground. Not because it is in the forecast — just because it feels like it should be snowing. Today, was the day. The kids, up before Frank and I, were the ones to tip us off. The awestruck screech, “Snoooooooow!!!” jolted us. So much for Sleeping In Saturday. You’d think after a lifetime of Wisconsin winters, snow would not be a big deal. But every year, it surely is. Not just for the kids, but for adults as well… including me.
With both Frank and I off work today, no morning obligations, I decided to make some pancakes!! Woohoo. Lootie isn’t fond of my “lumpy” pancakes (whole wheat, oatmeal, flax, nuts, etc.), and I gave in this morning for his favorite “smooth, white — NORMAL” pancakes (although I used 1/2 white and 1/2 wheat flour, but he need not know). I found this recipe for blueberry pancakes and made it, doubled, following the directions from perfectly. No additions, no straying from the recipe — it was a miracle. They were mighty tasty, too.
Here’s Franny, one of the 8-year-old twins, going down the front lawn:
Later Frank went to drop off Dante’s friend, and I was stuck home with the twins needing to get to the store. As I got my purse and list, I glanced out the window and realized the car had been plowed in. Not feeling up to digging it out, I decided we’d take the bus. The boys were thrilled at our decided “adventure” and happily got their boots and coats. I scrambled to dig up 12 quarters and we ran out the door, not wanting to miss it, since it was scheduled to come in a few minutes.
The snow had turned to small ice-balls, pelting at us from seemingly every direction. Thankfully the bus was only 10 minutes late. Thankfully, also, the bus driver didn’t boot us off for not having enough bus fare. I thought him a kind man, seeing as I had $3, a dollar for each of us, 50 cents short (adults are $1.50, now I know this). After we found our seats, I dug to the bottom pit of my purse to find 2 quarters. Thinking we were close to our stop, I pulled the yellow cord and walked to the front of the bus, lurching and swaying as he came to a stop. I tried to hand him the two coins, and he looked at me as if I were crazy.
“You’re going to Wal-Mart, right?” He asked, ignoring my quarters.
He took off without warning, sending Franny nearly on his behind as he scrambled back to his seat. I mentally moved the bus driver over to the “possibly not kind” column in my brain and scurried back to my own seat before I slip-slided onto my own fat fanny.
The walk from the bus stop to the store was treacherous and I was thankful that it was not far. We were pelted in the face by hundreds of cold, wet mini-snowballs, wind whipping and cars slipping. “Oh the adventure!!” I yelled, like a maniac. Franny clung to the back of my jacket half crying, half laughing. Sal said he wasn’t scared/hurt/cold.
Thankfully Frank met us there and we drove home in a warm van. My sweatsuit is still a bit wet and cold, as well as my hair, but I’m not too bothered. I forget how convenient the bus is, with stops less than a block from our house. I’ve only ridden it twice, though — once to work and then today. Both times, making it very clear to all the passengers that I am a novice bus-rider.