For the Love of a Snow Day

Living in Nashville, winter has brought on a whole new experience when it comes to weather.

The city is currently almost completely shut down (the mayor has asked everyone stay off the roadways for the past three days) due to inches of ice on roads and temperatures below freezing, topped with new fallen snow.

Lacking appropriate snow accessories.

The snowcessories most Tennesseans use to clear their cars (maybe minus the Captain).

While this seems piddly compared to what other Americans are experiencing to our north, this slight winter weather halts an entire city, as there is a lack of city equipment to care for the roads, citizens can hardly handle driving in the rain, let alone freezing precipitation and quite frankly, current weather conditions happen about once every 15 years.

90 minute workout

It was a 90 minute workout and half a tank of gas to get my car de-iced yesterday.

And while businesses, schools and folks everywhere are turning into Jack Nicholson from The Shining due to cabin fever, I find myself feeling sorry that the city is shut down due to ice, not snow. Because snow days are fun. Snow days are for play.

Being from the Midwest, it was a very rare treat to get your ass out and actually play in the snow when you were supposed to be sitting in a social studies class.

I'm a lotta help. But I look cute.

Helping Dad shovel the sidewalk. The broom was a big help.

Growing up in rural Iowa, no one batted an eye when several inches (or feet) of snow, high winds and freezing temperatures were included in the forecast for the next day. No one rushed home early from work clogging up the streets, made a mad dash to the grocery stores buying all of the milk and bread in sight and no one abandoned their vehicles on the side of the road due to the frozen flakes falling from the sky (as people tend to do in my current state of Tennessee).

Anytime winter weather is in the forecast, the South freaks the fuck out.

No shit.

Bread and milk aisles in Nashville when snow is in the forecast.

Where I grew up, school was never, ever cancelled the night before predicted winter weather – which often included blizzards, sleet, hail, ice accompanied by subzero temperatures and wind chills (in Tennessee, entire counties and districts will call off school if any meteorologist utters the word “snow” during the weather segment).

Getting a snow day in Iowa was about as possible as Martians landing in the community park.

I DON'T WANT SNOWFLAKES IN MY EYES.

I wish I may, I wish I might, please let the snowfall cancel school for my delight.

So it was a rare treat when the phone (that was connected to the kitchen wall – oh the good ‘ol days) would ring in the wee hours of the morning announcing that school was cancelled (mostly because the buses couldn’t make the trip to get kids in the country).  Instead of sleeping one moment more, my sister and I got our asses out of bed like it was Christmas morning, adorned ourselves in all kinds of snow gear and headed out to play in the wonderland of white (usually with our cousins, who lived right across the street).

It takes this kind of snow to shut down schools in Iowa.

This kind of snow won’t merit a school snow day in Iowa.

Documented below is one of the funnest snow days in history (well, my history).

First we got to sled in the road, which felt like we were breaking all kind of societal rules.

The dog.

How ’bout my mom’s shit kickers? So warm in subzero temperatures.

Second, my sister and I built snowmen complete with cute, cozy accessories (mine came off of my body).

Sacrificing my warmth for a fashionable snow man...or maybe snow gal with the pink stocking hat.

Sacrificing my warmth for a fashionable snowman, naturally.

Then my cousins, the Morris boys, thought it would be a good idea to dig through the snow to Timbuktu.  I would rather have made snow angels and bedazzle my handmade snow creatures but of course I agreed to help excavate (as I had a cute shovel I wanted to put to use – and by I, I mean my cousin Derek. Let’s remember my fingernails are jewels, not tools).

Can we live here?

Can we live here?

I thought it was nothing short of a winter miracle when my dad and Uncle Lewis came out to play with us, constructing a snow fort out of a drift in my backyard, complete with a tunnel – diverting the dig to faraway lands (thank GOD – I was getting tired of being the project manager).

All these years later, I long for a true snow day to build (well, rather sit on my ample derriere and watch my cousins, dad and uncle construct) a fort.

But then again, I live in a state that has snow days with no snow.

Anyone want to road trip it to Iowa?

C’mon!

CBXB

Image 1

Snow Day Shenanigans

What a light snowfall looks like above the Mason-Dixon line

I'm a lotta help. But I look cute.

Helping Dad shovel the sidewalk. The broom was a big help.

Growing up in rural Iowa, no one batted an eye when several inches (or feet) of snow, high winds and freezing temperatures were included in the forecast for the next day. No one rushed home early from work clogging up the streets, made a mad dash to the grocery stores buying all of the milk and bread in sight and no one abandoned their vehicles on the side of the road due to the frozen flakes falling from the sky (as people tend to do in my current state of Tennessee).

Anytime winter weather is in the forecast, the South freaks the fuck out.

No shit.

Hurry! Get all of the bread you can get your hands on! One quarter-inch of snow is predicted! Photo from AL.com.

Where I grew up, school was never, ever cancelled the night before predicted winter weather – which often included blizzards, sleet, hail or subzero temperatures and wind chills (in Tennessee, entire counties and districts will call off school if any meteorologist utters the word “snow” during the weather segment).

Getting a snow day in Iowa was about as possible as Martians landing in the community park.

I DON'T WANT SNOWFLAKES IN MY EYES.

I wish I may, I wish I might, please let the snowfall cancel school for my delight.

So it was a rare treat when the phone (that was connected to the kitchen wall – oh the good ‘ol days) would ring in the wee hours of the morning announcing that school was cancelled (mostly because the buses couldn’t make the trip to get kids in the country).  Instead of sleeping one moment more, my sister and I got our asses out of bed like it was Christmas morning, adorned ourselves in all kinds of snow gear and headed out to play in the wonderland of white (usually with our cousins, the Morris boys, who lived right across the street).

It takes this kind of snow to shut down schools in Iowa.

It takes this kind of snow to even think about shutting down schools in the North.

Documented below is one of the funnest snow days in history (well, my history).

First we got to sled in the road, which felt like we were breaking all kind of societal rules.

The dog.

How ’bout my mom’s shit kickers? So warm in subzero temperatures.

Second, my sister and I built snowmen complete with cute, cozy accessories (mine came off of my body).

Sacrificing my warmth for a fashionable snow man...or maybe snow gal with the pink stocking hat.

Sacrificing my warmth for a fashionable snowman, naturally.

Then, the Morris boys thought it would be a good idea to dig through the snow to Timbuktu.  I would rather have made snow angels and bedazzle my handmade snow creatures but of course I agreed to help excavate (as I had a cute shovel I wanted to put to use – and by I, I mean my cousin Derek. My fingernail mantra has always been ‘jewels, not tools’ apparently).

Can we live here?

Can we live here?

I thought it was nothing short of a winter miracle when my dad and Uncle Lewis came out to play with us, constructing a snow fort out of a drift in my backyard, complete with a tunnel – diverting the dig to faraway lands (thank GOD – I was getting tired of being the project manager).

All these years later, I long for a true snow day to build (well, rather sit on my ample derriere and watch my cousins, dad and uncle construct) a fort.

But then again, I live in a state that has snow days with no snow.

Anyone want to road trip it to Iowa?

C’mon!

CBXB

Image 1

Weekend Winks – Crazy Style

Party Girl not pooped.

Party Girl not pooped.

After all of my Christmas partying shenanigans, I thought the weekends would calm down a bit after ringing in 2014.

Holiday gifts were being worn with pride.

CBXB nephew style

A little CBXB style for my Iowa nephew.

The goodbye to last year was guzzled away by yours truly.

Kiss my ass 2013!

Kiss my ass 2013!

New Year’s resolutions were promised to be followed.

Re

I got this.

My gulping abilities were being mimicked by a new generation (my heart bursts with pride).

Milk chugging champ.

Milk chugging champ.

And Ted lazed the days away on his new favorite tissue bed.

Beauty sleep for the both of us

Lounging for the both of us.

But, like most of the country winter weather was headed Nashville’s way.

It's coming....

The snow was already falling up north.

Because winter weather makes folks in Nashville lose their sanity with even just the mention of frozen precipitation (I shit you not. The grocery stores were nearly out of milk and bread yesterday and local schools cancelled Monday classes by noon Sunday. Yes, you read that right), I joined in on the crazy.

It started by me taking in a soaking wet, shivering, hungry stray that sat by my door in 17 degree weather, greeting me upon my arrival home (and no, this isn’t the same stray I posted about last week. Someone is dumping cats in my apartment complex and if I catch you doing it, I WILL END YOU).  Knowing I couldn’t let the little guy freeze to death I scooped him up, dried him off and set up shop for him in the bathroom.

Hello?

Hello? This paw is still wet.

The next morning I took him to the vet to be sure he didn’t have leukemia, kitty AIDS and got him vaccinated.

After he received a clean bill of health, I brought him back home – adding another cray to the notch in my already crazy cat lady belt.

Lost my goddamn mind

WTF have you brought into my house?

While I let kit cats sniff one another out, Ted was cautious at first glance.

Then New Cat started to explore the mini-manse.

Polite strangers

Perched politely.

Ted became quite the host after a few minutes, overseeing the little guy’s every move. Even in the makeshift litter pan I put in the guest bath.

Host with the most, even in the bathroom

Yep. That looks about right.

While Ted and New Cat never even uttered a meow, hiss or low growl at one another, our house guest made it extremely clear he would rather be outside in the zero degree temperature.

Let me the hell out of here!

Caged in the warmest of jails. Poor thing.

Peek

Spending the first day and night in a window, meowing the meow of his people to be let outside.

Of course this cat was forced to stay inside a warm apartment with ample food and water. The horror!

I am on the search to find him a home – anyone want a sweet little kit cat between one and two years old? I’d keep him but Ted’s got a food allergy (so low maintenance, just like his mama) and his food costs $60 per bag. Can’t swing that for two cats. So c’mon…who wants a new fur baby?

What better way to end a weekend than with football playoffs?  Even little B & B in Iowa couldn’t tear their eyes away from the Packers/49ers game.

Go Greenbay Go!

Go Green Bay Go!

After wrangling cats this morning, I was greeted with a slight dusting of snow, frozen shut doors and an engine that refused to start for 10 minutes.

No problem

No problem for a former Iowa girl.

While I poured a bucket of hot water down my driver’s side door to gain entry, here’s hoping I can open it when I want to go home from work tonight.

Hope you are finding yourself warm (with a pantry stocked of bread and a fridge full of milk) wherever you are on this winter day.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Miami Moments

Coming down off of my Miami high proves to be difficult as the ‘winter’ weather (people here act like 40 degrees is sub-zero) rages on in Nashville.

I saw this sign in Juicy Couture at the Aventura Mall (LOVE this place) and wished I could rip it off the wall but my purse wasn’t big enough to stash it in.

I need this for my mini manse.

I NEED this for my mini manse.

While on a stroll around a neighborhood, I saw the house (or the roof really) Ricky Martin just sold.

Here's what shaking your hips will get you in Miami.

Here’s what shaking your hips will get you in Miami.

Beautiful bodies were all around in the Miami heat.

The view from my beach chair was amazing!

The view from my beach chair was amazing!

Drooling is always a must while browsing the posh stores nowhere near Nashville.

Hello!

Hello!

On the flight home, the couple in the seat in front of me had on matching hats.  They had to lift their front brims every time they smooched (once every three minutes).  While some may think this situation was adorable, I wanted to tell them to take it to the plane’s bathroom.

Barf

Teddy and I need matching head accessories now.

While collecting my luggage, I caught a glimpse of what looked like the mother of all strollers.

blah

Fancy wheels.

Turns out, it was a stroller – for three dogs. And, I thought I was a crazy lady (although I’m pretty sure Ted needs a stroller to accompany me everywhere now).

A fluffy crowd indeed.

A fluffy crowd indeed.

The sight of the little fur balls made me miss my own all the more. Here’s the glimpse of the view I caught while walking up my front steps.

Tail Whip

Tail whip.

And the warm welcome I received from TB.

Where the hell have you been?

Where the hell have you been?

While he’s all sweetness now, he will be hell on wheels in the very near future, punishing me for being gone consecutive days (although he was spoiled rotten at his grandparent’s house – so don’t fall for that pitiful face).

A much needed Skinny Pirate also welcomed me home.

Much needed SP from my beloved Dalts.

Showing me the love.

After a couple SPs, I got a good night’s sleep with my clingy cat (which of course we all know I love and adore the attention).

blah blah blah

Teddy, acting like we’ve been apart for three years.

And finally, I received this photo from my mini me’s mom. I thought I might burst from laughing so hard when I read the explanation that accompanied the image:

“A puppet of you. Complete with pink highlights and red lipstick – plus giant hoop earrings on the side. Made on the airplane. Creative use of barf bag.”

Never so flattered.

Never so flattered.

You know you’re somebody when your image ends up on a barf bag.

CBXB