Sunday, December 12, 2010

Dammit, Wild - I'm too old to stay up for O.T. at midnight.....

...but no.  I am not turning this off.

Parenthood and all attendant responsibilities mean that I can't actually follow hockey. If not for a few Finns, I'd not recognize any players by name on our team.  Oh, yeah, Zhidlitsky (sp??)  I recognize that name too.  "Koivu. - Zhidlitsky.  Koivu-Zhidlitsky."  I'm giggling with that exchange alone.  Good thing my daughter's out cold, I can't imagine what she'd make of it.  She's still complaining of frunchy tater tots, fratches on her leg, and asking for Fristmas Fookies.  Hockey names will be a whole new world for her vocabulary, we'll have to get her to a few Wild games before kindergarten, I guess.  Just to clear things up before the teachers start calling....

Hah.  Woooo!  They've won!  Which means If I can finish the rest of my wine, I'm upstairs, listening to the wind howl, and making more pictures and stories for it, while closing my eyes.  When the wind really tears, it's almost a roaring sound, a slash against the steadier waves of sound.  Not very hard to picture the wind as beast, or hunter, or even a crime.  And so I do.

The newscasters are having even more fun with the visuals than I am - this from the Star Tribune, tonight, "Variously described as Snowmaggedon and Snowmygawd, the biggest snowstorm to hit the Twin Cities since the Halloween storm a generation ago whited out -- and pretty much paralyzed -- the metro area and much of the rest of central and southern Minnesota on Saturday."  Someone has been waiting to use 'snowmygawd' for a Very. Long. Time.

Doors are closing, and it's time to turn off the lights.  I made 70 krumkake today, need to make more, and more gingerbread, tomorrow.  No place to go (er, other than to pick up the cat), so we may as well stay home and bake :-)  My feet and legs are tired.  I learned, today, that fresh marshmallows are a tougher medium for a 'snowman centerpiece' than I thought.  I'll do better, next time.

Until then, with blinding wind, so cold it freezes your thoughts when you blink,

S.

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