Well, no surprise, we survived our ten zillionth snow day. Because what else are you gonna do?
The day started out looking like this:
But before too long it looked like this, a sky-blue-and-white wonderland like something from the "January" page of a nature-photography calendar:
We played in the snow for nearly three hours straight. (And by "we," I mean "they.")
We watched a lot of cartoons. (Because on the zillionth snow day for the winter--when it's loooong supposed to have been spring--this may be integral to the mental health of a stay-at-home mom.)
And then yesterday the sun came out, it eventually got up to a hard-won 49 degrees, the kidlets went back to school, and life got back to normal.
Well, semi-normal. I have decided to take a week or so off from running--from all exercise, actually. I'm so burned out on running the asphalt streets around my house. In a typical year, I could easily have been back running my beloved trails for a month by now, my real running place:
images courtesy carleton.edu and thoos.com
As it is, I haven't seen the Arboretum trails for five full months. They are full of snow, ice, mud, and floodwater. And even though the sun is out and the snow is melting, I just can't summon the motivation to pound the house-lined streets of my neighborhood anymore. I'm used to solitude, peace, privacy, and nature when I run. Instead, five months of town running is testing my gumption and enthusiasm (which aren't winning).
It is what it is. Once or twice a year I go through a week or few when I'm burned out and stop exercising completely for awhile. Then I magically get excited about it again, and return to my usual routine with gusto. I'm assuming that's what will happen this time too. One thing I'm always amazed at when I take a break from working out is how much more time I have. It's crazy! There are huge chunks of my week that normally are filled with mileage and Jillian Michaels but are now empty. I use that term loosely. Of course they are filling up with things to do just like any other available time. But it's a nice change of pace, sort of.
In other news, yesterday I went to my town's annual used book sale. It's this HUGE fundraiser for the hospital, and it is famous. The entire ice arena is filled with tables of used books arranged by category, and they're mostly a dollar each. After three days, that goes down to half-price. Then on the last day of the sale, you can fill up a paper grocery bag for five dollars, whatever you can fit.
People donate used books to the sale during a designated week each spring. Volunteers go through them all and run the sale. It's truly incredible. And, in a town like mine, with two elite private colleges and tons and tons of hyper-literate professors and others, uh...there are a lot of books. Many of them GOOD books.
Honestly, I don't need many (any?) more books, so I usually avoid the sale. But this year a friend's comment about it changed my mind (she called the annual book sale her "happy place"), and I went. It was fantastic!
I found a parenting book I was waiting for at the library and a whole pile of books for my kiddos.
So needed. So, SO needed.
Oh, and I also found this:
WHAT. THE. WHAT???
WHO in their right mind would give away my book?!? Aren't they going to keep it forever and hand it down to their children??! Just kidding, you all. I got a good laugh out of it and texted this photo to my husband and my best friend. At least there was only one copy there! Ha!
And that's all my news. I know, my life is somewhat pedestrian. Guess what? That's EXACTLY how I like it. Minus the snow, snow, snow, and snow.
Cheers! Love you. Bye.
p.s. By Saturday it's supposed to be in the mid-70s. Yes. We will have been in parkas and shorts in the same location within the same week.