I. finally. got. THE. shot.

Ever since summer began disappearing, I noticed more and more wildlife in my yard. And I noticed that the birdfeeders were draining at an unusual pace.

One night as I was getting ready for bed, I caught a deer, not eight feet from my kitchen window, munching on the seed. I grabbed Liam out of bed to witness it, and I think he barely caught the thing leaping away. Or so he said. He probably wanted to get his tired ass back to sleep.

On another night not long after, we caught another deer feeding on the birdfeeder. But all I got was this amazing shot of screen and glare:



It's been a few months now since I removed the screen and left the window open just enough to fit a fist full of camera through, making my gas company happy as all hell. On a few occasions I've passed by the window and spooked a deer back into the woods and cursed myself for not getting a shot. Other times I've let the dog out and watched as several white tails high-tailed it back up the hill.

So it struck me funny that tonight, while I was clanking around the kitchen loading dishes and running the sink, that I heard a familiar sound. I was eye to eye with the deer, and it let me not only back away while in my well-lit kitchen to get a camera, but it stuck around while I recited my version of Mark Wahlberg's SNL animal scene while I shot pics of it.

"Hey deer, I don't want to eat you, I just want to talk to you."








If I've never seen a deer say "Fuck you" before, I saw it tonight.

The week

Illness swept the house once again this week. If I wasn't cleaning puke off walls and beds, I was throwing up in my own right.

Last weekend started off well! I reunited with my goddaughter, who is now 15 years old, smart as a whip and funny as hell. Here is Alex, with her dad Gary:


I lost touch with her mom over the years, and after joining Facebook a few months ago, I caught up with a few people who managed to put me in contact with Gary, who now has sole custody of Alex. They came for dinner, and as nervous as I was, I was so pleased to finally see Alex again after all these years.

Another pseudo-milestone this week: Zoe lost her seventh tooth.



We were all finally feeling better today, and since it was such a lovely day, I joined Zoe in the back yard, sledding, tossing snowballs and otherwise ignoring the cold.



We opted out of parties this weekend to have our own Super Bowl party, mostly so we could actually WATCH the game rather than mingle and catch cheers when something good happened. And as we know, lots of good will happen. LET'S GO STEELERS!

Haircut night

Before:


After:

I have a dream

I am so looking forward to sleeping -- alone -- in my bed tonight.

I might even kick the dog out of the room. No children, no stuffed animals, no boyfriend, no blankies.

Just dreams of finding binkies stuck to my back and lip balm smeared on the pillowcase. I can deal with that.

It's times like these that I miss Florida

I reluctantly got out of the shower tonight -- and only did so because the hot water was running out. As soon as the air hit my skin, I could feel my pores, every last one of them, tighten in pain. The kind of pain that forces hair follicles to try to flee by their roots, making shaving an exercise in futility.

Tonight I tried something different: cranking my furnace to 70 before my shower. I think that made it worse. Back down to 68.

The outside temp is 13. My skin is like sandpaper, my fingertips are split open, and my hair feels like straw. I have deadly icicles dangling from my roof, a dog that hasn't pooped in days because the snow burns her paws. I'm wondering if my car will start in the morning after discovering the poor thing vomited oil all over the garage floor. My Jetta is, after all, a Florida baby like Zoe. It prefers sea salt to rock salt.

In trying to get over this winter, I've come up with a top-10 list of why I should stop dreaming of Florida:

10. Warm, bulky clothing hides my warm, bulky body.

9. I have not seen a palmetto bug in my toilet for more than three years.

8. Scarves as fashion accessories.

7. Kids dig sleds.

6. Snow-shoveling is great exercise.

5. No wondering where that lizard went after it crawled under the armoire.

4. I can actually get out of the shower and dry off, as opposed to going from damp to sweaty.

3. The mail is prompt. No more waiting three months for packages to arrive.

2. I'm totally used to sock rings now. And my sandals get time to air out.

1. Who needs sand castles when you have snow angels??

HELLO TAMPA

The girls love the Steelers. When they're not bickering over bingo.

HERE WE GO, STEELERS!!!

Break in the clouds

I was putzing around the house tonight after shoveling the driveway when I noticed... there was something... different.


There was SUN!


After all the doom and gloom the past week, seeing temperatures I can't ever remember seeing before, it was wonderful seeing a little light.


I didn't know my little 10-dollar gizmo could even register such insane temps. I'll have to find one that stops at zero so I can continue to live in denial.

Date night

We had a night out for grownups, joined later by Rob and Jenny. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Like a good neighbor...

I went outside after work and shoveled snow. It was peaceful and quiet. And I wondered why the rest of my neighbors weren't digging out from under the day's snowfall.


I guess I should check the forecast more often. It has been coming down so hard in the three hours since I shoveled that it looks as though I didn't touch my driveway, minus some small bare spots where apparently I spilled enough salt.

I don't get this snow thing. Isn't it too cold to snow??? ISN'T 20 DEGREES TOO COLD FOR ANYTHING?

Anyway, my neighbors are apparently onto the fact that no amount of shoveling and salt was going to have any effect by morning. I need to catch on to these things. Like when they don't water in the summer because of impending torrential downpours (and I'm out there with my hose) and when they don't put garbage out (and I'm out the next morning dragging shit back into the garage wondering why garbage men get freakin' Grandparents' Day off).

My $7 a week habit

But if the deer keep devouring it, the birds may fall prey to the economy.

If I had my way...

There would be refrigerated purses. And I would buy one for my cheese.

Complete disbelief

Liam tries for the 115th time to beat me at Scrabble:


He is one persistent man. While he was struggling with, errrr, thinking about his next moves, I was rummaging through his CD collection to import onto my laptop.

When I got to the end of his CD case, I found this:


I. AM. SPEECHLESS.