I alluded in this post to the mini-blizzard headed to our sweet city. It did not disappoint. In fact, Phil and I both got word the night before that we wouldn't be expected at work Thursday morning. As it turns out, the news of a snow day is no less gratifying at 25 than it is when you're 8; when your dad sneaks into your bedroom for the OFF switch on your alarm and to whisper those glorious words so sweetly you can hear the smile stretch his face. ... "snooooooooow daaay".
My rooster cat greeted me first thing in the morning and if I weren't a morning bird myself, I might mind. Phil followed soon after and our day consisted of:
Blogging, coffee, Argo (have you seen it?), baking cookies, unburying my car from the snow and squabbling over the shovel (who doesn't want to be the hero?!), making up, reading ebooks, hand-stitching organic catnip toys (at what point does one officially cross over into crazy catlady-dom?)...
And today. Today I am off on a 4 hour drive to wish my dad a happy un-birthday (it was Thursday), and to drop my furbaby off for cat-sitting before we leave on vacation. He couldn't be left in better hands. I feel good about that.
Happy Weekend, lovely blog people!