Snow Day! Well, not really but I can remember when we lived in Nebraska (military brat--we measure our lives by places lived, if it was Nebraska it must have been early elementary school) they would cancel school because of too much snow. It was the best time ever. We spent hours building forts and pummeling each other with every conceivable manifestation of snow artillery our minds could conceive. (Worse than the dreaded yellow snow--Frank Zappa- was the dog-poop snowball.)
We are out because the Texas gulf coast is, yet again, being pummeled with tropical storm rains and a visit by Edouard, our non-sexist multi-cultural yet somehow still anthropomorphic weather-related experiential moment(s). How come snow storms don't get names? I'll think about that later.
In remembrance of fonder times, I will be tossing out some snowball posts by way of updating. Duck, when the dog-poop flies. There is nothing more humiliating than falling victim to that one. Unless, its having it rubbed in your face while the wrathful victim sits heavily on your chest.
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