Posted on Craigslist Today:

~~Bella found her companion~~

(Waunaville)
Reply to: comm-780344459@craigslist.org

Date: 2008, August 2

I'm telling you, personal ads on Craigslist is the way to go! For those of you wondering, Bella our black cat found her companion. Milo, the 9 week old orange tabby terror, moved in with our family last week. Many thanks to Erica who saw our personal add and gave us a call. She and her boyfriend drove over to visit us and meet the characters in our house.

Fortunately, she liked what she saw and now Milo is a happy addition to our crew. Predictably, now that she has another cat in the house now, Bella is not to sure she wants to share us. She's playing the aloof, disgruntled queen to perfection.

Tucker the family dog thinks its great to have someone to play with, however, and to see them tussle and race around the house together is a treat. I'm surprised that our youngish border collie cross is so patient and kind to him. It has been a win-win solution for us all here.

Thanks for the happy ending, Craigslist crew!

Jude, now called Milo, chills out

It's never easy to lose a family member. When it is a relative, you receive support, condolences and the space you need to recover.

When the loss is a pet, the non-animal lovers around you will shrug and remind you that there are plenty more where the last one came from. Non-animal lovers don't understand that pets are more than animals. They are right about the needs of millions of animals up for adoption, of course, but replacing a member of the family is a more difficult process.

Animal lovers are in staunch agreement, and will listen to your stories with sympathy--briefly--before they share the latest antics of their own beloved pet.

Maui, a short haired calico lived a long and healthy life as a spayed barn kitty and passed away at the ripe old age of 18, two years ago. Her mom, Rosie, was a pregnant stray that wandered onto the property at about 18 months old, and was a little runty thing, but resilient. My folks had her spayed and kept her kitten, Maui as company for her.

When her mom went to kitty heaven after a long happy life, Maui's life became more difficult but she learned to navigate the dangers of coyotes, raccoons, neighborhood dogs and the horses that lived in and around the barn. The barn is on my parent's property, and as my hubby and older daughter is very allergic to cats, the only indoor cats we had were the stuffed toys that the girls had to make due with.

To replace Maui, my parents, "gifted" my girls with two kittens to be barn kitties. I had a very long list of why I was opposed to barn kittens. The first being that 8 week old kittens are in no way ready to face the wide world of the outdoors on their own. And how long do you think it took for those kittens to move indoors and become a part of our lives? Right. About two weeks.

So Marco and his sister Bella became family as new additions to replace Maui, and brought their energy and enthusiasm to our household. In the case of Marco, we only had the adventurer for a little over a year. We lost him to coyotes last week and it breaks my heart. My husband didn't cry when his father passed away, but had tears in his eyes when he came back from burying Marco. Keely sobbed. Cassie is devistated. Bella wanders the garden and calls for him. And I try to come to terms with the loss by checking the pet section of Craigslist. But Marco was unique and he is missed.

Thanks for brightening our lives for a while Marco. You were truely great.

The neighboring town of Gig Harbor's summer activities are in full swing. The weather has settled into the comfortable 75 - 85 degree range and sundown isn't until 9:00 pm. The concert in the park series has been fun and now the movies in the park series is off as well. Want to join us? Bring a blanket and a chair! Stake out your spot as these are popular events. We'll leave the Waunadog at home....

I am surprised...wait, no that's not it...ambivalent about the recent graffiti that appeared in Wauna. As I was crossing the bridge into Waunaland, I noticed the following sign had been modified:

Sadly, my first thought was that it was a tribute to ME and my great blog. HA! (Some of you might remember that I go by "Mara" as well as "Waunalifegal". Really.) Then I gave it a little more thought.

Wait. What would the average paramecium-brained tagster find funny about spray painting the word "Marra" (Obviously spelled wrong if they were referring to me) above the word "Wauna". It took me a few more bridge crossings to get the pun. I never even gave a thought to the fact that some might take this whole Wauna thought towards the pharmaceutical end of things. Color me naive.

So here's some trivia for you nasty little pranksters, "In September 14, 1889, 'Wauna' was chosen as the new plat name by an early post mistress, Mary Frances White, for a Native American term for 'mighty water', rather than the original plat name of 'Springfield' because of all the other Springfields to be found in Washington State."

Go Mary Frances! I'll bet you money that she, unlike other more recent KP natives, never dabbled in pharmaceuticals!

It has been a half of a year since I've last posted. If you have missed me, I'm terribly sorry. If you haven't noticed, I'm even more sorry! >_<

I have been moonlighting as a gym supervisor on Saturdays for the last two years, and I'm embarrassed to admit that I am heavier than I have ever been when not pregnant. Wow. I can't believe I'm admitting that online.

Here's the trick. If I have accountability, I might stick with it longer than if I didn't acknowledge these last two points. I now want to pick a number and see if I can be lower than that next Saturday.

Here's the number: 2. I'll update that number next Saturday.

Until then, I'll write about things un-fitness related.

Wow. I've managed to let a whole month slide by without a post or three. So sorry all of you people who might even care to check in with me once in a blue moon.

(....crickets chirping in the background....)

Ahem. Well since I don't have anything deep and meaningful to post today, I thought I'd add an assignment my ten year-old turned in last month:

*************************************************************

My New Years Resolution

I have made three New Years Resolutions for 2008. One helps me to be a better person, that is my personal resolution. My second is about what I should do to be a better family member. The third is about what I should not do at school.

My personal resolutions is about eating the gross healthy things that my parents force-feed me. I'm ten now, so they just need to give me the evil eye to make me eat stuff.

Oh yah, my "New Years Resolution" (Phony voice) for my family is remembering my manners. I'm very bad about interrupting, and I eat with my fingers. I get in trouble all the time for that.

Last but not least, my "School Resolution" (Strange voice again)...speaking of voices, I'm a little talkster myself. Talking and humming and making weird noises are things I do all the time. I get in trouble. I'll try to stop, I promise.

******************************************************

May our problems in life be that simple and easy to solve!

It's the day after Christmas, I'm at work whilst my family plays at home, and I think I'm coming down with a cold. How's that for a fitting end to the Christmas season?

On the upside, it really did snow on Christmas Day! We were driving to points South to spend time with sister #1 and sister #2 and their families, and low, the rain became colder and didst appear to thicken. And suddenly it appeared unto us the wetness on the windsheild became a host of white flakes apparently saying, "Drive not too quickly, nor tarry too long in one spot, for families of young children wait with dearling noses pressed upon the window panes for your jolly red wagon to appear upon the horizon".

Okay. I've gotten my stories crossed. But I do drive a red wagon, and it did snow, and the kids were waiting for us to get there to open gifts! And it was the perfect snow. Pretty to see falling, settled on lawns and trees, but did not build up on the route returning home. Perfect!

Good Christmas Eve one and all!

I want everyone to know that I have you and you family in my thoughts and hope that the upcoming holiday will be everything you look for the Christmas season. I will add my Christmas photos to my site in a few days, but I'm a bit pressed for time today as I still have a few gifts to wrap and fruit cake to make!

As a parting message, I thought I'd post this e-mail that was sent to me that made me smile:

WHY GOD CREATED CHILDREN (AND IN THE PROCESS GRANDCHILDREN)

To those of us who have children in our lives, whether they are our own, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, or students...here is something to make you chuckle.

Whenever your children are out of control, you can take comfort from the thought that even God's omnipotence did not extend to His own children after creating heaven and earth. God created Adam and Eve, and after showing them Eden and praising them, the final warning he gave them was "DON'T!"
"Don't what?" Adam replied.
"Don't eat the forbidden fruit." God said.
"Forbidden fruit? We have forbidden fruit? Hey Eve…we have forbidden fruit!"
"No way!"
"Yes way!"
"Do NOT eat the fruit!" said God.
"Why?”
"Because I am your Father and I said so!" God replied, wondering why He hadn't stopped creation after making the elephants. A few minutes later, God saw His children having an apple break and He was ticked!

"Didn't I tell you not to eat the fruit?" God asked.
"Uh huh," Adam replied.
"Then why did you?" said the Father.
"I don't know," said Eve.
"She started it!" Adam said,
"Did not!""Did too!""DID NOT!"

Having had it with the two of them, God's punishment was that Adam and Eve should have children of their own. Thus the pattern was set and it has never changed.

BUT THERE IS REASSURANCE IN THE STORY! If you have persistently and lovingly tried to give children wisdom and they haven't taken it, don't be hard on yourself. If God had trouble raising children, what makes you think it would be a piece of cake for you?

In the interest of further explanation, I thought I'd clarify the blog links to the right of this post. A few of my friends I've nagged into taking a look at my blog are blog newbies. They weren't really sure what a blog was all about, let alone how to find and read one.

The links I've posted are other writers and photographers around the world that I discovered through surfing that write in such a way that amuses, educates me or has another view that I had never considered before. I've read these for a while, I've enjoyed them and I'd like to share with the those of you who might be interested.

I know a fair amount about the Pacific Northwest with all of its many faces, but I love to branch out. I have been to Australia, New Zealand, Vanuatu, Fiji, Mexico and parts of Europe. (Very small parts! ^_^) Interestingly enough, I haven't been to Utah, much of Montana or Arizona. Weird how you look farther away than your back door, isn't it?

Currently I do my traveling over the Blog-sphere and the library system as I find raising children on a part-time job with the help of my full time husband keeps me from much international travel.

Rosina's Road Trip was a fortunate find. I had just been going over geography with my nine year old and was once again reminded that there is a beautiful, complicated, culturally vast continent that I have never visited relatively close to home. South America.

It was the beautiful pictures that drew me into the blog as they are of Brazil. But the saga of Rosina's true trip to health that keeps me reading. But for the grace of God, that could be me in ICU. Keep fighting Rosina!

I'm sad to say that I pulled off The Mad Momma's blog this weekend. She is a wonderful professional writer who documents her trials and tribulations of raising a young family in India on her blog. She closed her blog to casual readers, so you can't see for yourself. Sadly, I've lost her address, so I can't write to her either. I'm so sorry for that loss!

And welcome to Waiter's Rant. His is a well written, well thought out blog with three + years worth of writing documenting the life on the other side of the apron. My first paid job (besides babysitting at 14) was helping to care for a stable of show Arabian horses. Most of my time was on the business end of a pitch fork. (And I had the callouses and muscle to prove it!)

My second job was busing tables at a local restaurant. In general, I found the horses treated me better. Enjoy your surf!

I'm constantly tweaking my blog.

It's much like my living room. Just when I have it the way I like it, I rearrange it, adding new things or re-discovered things that I uncover in the basement.

Lately I added a book review column as my dear friend Courtney and I formed a book club a couple of years ago and I miss it. Its rather difficult to meet as she is teaching in Thailand right now. But this is the system we used:

* = Didn't finish it because it was so objectionable. Fire-starting material.
** = Maybe worth reading if you are stuck waiting in a bus station, or it's assigned reading.
*** = Enjoyed this book. I'd recommend you borrowing a copy from a friend or the local library.
**** = Strongly recommended. I have a copy, will keep my copy forever and I'll get you one too because I hope you like it as much as I do!

I hope you join in and I'd love to hear what you are reading about and enjoy.

Christmas in the Northwest is damp affair. A friend in Australia remarked that she would love to come up to experience a white Christmas, since the holiday in the land down under is translated to picnics in the park and searing heat. I didn't want to discourage her, but Christmas is rarely decorated with the real white stuff here even though the latitude would seem to be condusive to the white stuff. Rain is much more likely!

Having said all of that, we were delighted the first day of December, to see buckets of snow falling out the window. We all threw on our winter gear and went for a walk. Big, fat, feathery flakes fell around us and we threw wet snowballs for the dog to catch (and eat) while we walked. The new Wauna cats, gifted to the girls this last summer, insisted on joining us for the ramble. They were less than impressed. Unless fat rodents and fluffy birds fall into their paths, they don't see the exercise worth the effort.

Naturally, none of the snow stayed around, and we had record-breaking rainfall two days later that flooded this half of the state. Great brown plumes of storm run off tracked out into the sound, visiable as I made my way to work. I worried about the returning salmon. They are faced with such an apparently impossible task of replentishing the sound, and development and poor netting practices threaten to wipe out the natural runs. But we never have wildfires whip through during the summers....

I had no idea what it stood for, but I was intrigued with this MEME that I saw on a great blog. If you click on the title, you'll see her blog. It seemed harmless enough, so I took a few minutes to come up with answers that sorta reflected me at the moment. So here it is:

And, Another Meme
Your answer has to start with the first letter of your name.

1. What is your name? Mara
2. 4 letter word: Mook
3. Vehicle: MGB
4. City: Malibu
5. Boy Name: Maurice (Wheet wheew)
6. Girl Name: Monica
7. Alcoholic drink: Molson Draft
8. Occupation: Mason,
9. Something you wear: Monocle (not me personally….)
10. Celebrity: Mel Gibson
11. Food: Mango
12. Something found in a bathroom: Mascara
13. Reason for Being Late: Mumps
14. Cartoon character: Mighty Mouse
15. Something You Shout: Move it! (My Mom reads this blog!)
16. Animal: Moose
17. Body part: Mouth
18. Word to describe you: Mellow, maundering, morose, manic, (Depends on the time of day and coffee consumption)

I tag Courtney and Keely (And all of you who want to give it a try!)

PS. Fresh from Wikipedia: The term Internet meme (IPA: /ˈɪntərˌnɛt mi:m/) is a neologism used to describe a catchphrase or concept that spreads in a faddish way from person to person via the Internet.[1] The term is a reference to the concept of memes, but is used loosely to refer to things that are not necessarily memes in a technical sense.

There you are then

As I might have mentioned before, up here in Waunaland, what tends to motivate me to blog are walks on the beach with the Wauna dog. A couple of days ago I was taking in the low winter sky pressing down against the high tide, and I remembered my Gram talking to me as a child about wishing stones.

From what I got was during the ice age, a huge glacier carved out Puget Sound. The icy behemoth tumbled rocks, dragging them all the way through Canada and into the native soil around the bay. After melting, they left rocks. Lots of them. Brown stones. Grey stones. Black stones. Cool shaped stones.

Occasionally though, you might run across beautiful stones in the shades of sherbet, and sunset, and mermaid to add to you coat pocket collection along with the gum wrapper, damp tissue and dog cookie.

We also would be on the lookout for the elusive agate which can be found glowing on the beach, back lit by the low winter sun. Agates the shade of deep red, bright orange or Sunkist orange and white. Some are the color of good suede. Some aren’t that great color wise (think of puddle water brown). But all worthy of collecting and placing in the glass salad bowl with a candle in the center...

According to Gram the best are the wishing stones--ones that have a white stripe all the way around it. If you are lucky enough, you will find a rock that's complete with a cummerbund wrapped all the way around a tuxedo black stone. I was told you have to hold it tight, close your eyes, make your wish, turn your back to the waves and throw the stone over you left shoulder. If it hits the water, then your wish will come true. (I suppose the closer to the water, the better the chances!)

I'm not sure it really worked. I never came home to a mountain-load of candy in my bedroom closet, or a pony. But so many good things have happened to me in my life this far, things might really work out after all!

I know that dance is not a new concept in the history of mankind. As soon as we as a people could stand and beat rocks together to establish rhythm, somebody started swaying to it and looking longingly at their partner of choice. Who immediately went in search for something dangerous and manly to do that didn’t require counting and rhythm.

But dance here in Waunaland, especially Latin Ballroom dance, and has had a huge resurgence fueled equally in part by parental need to recreate together sans children in public without sitting and consuming calories, and to reestablish the fact that we can go out regularly once a week for an hour and a half, and find on our return that the house will still be standing.

The Wauna Guy turned the big “five oh” this weekend. I attempted to surprise him with the rental of the F. O. E. club (Fraternal Order of the Eagles for you uninitiated folk) and the hiring of our dance instructor to teach a bit of dance for the rest of us.

It seemed like a great idea at the time. I rented a hall that quite a few could sit in. I could feed them cake and coffee without the worry about cooking for the masses, and we could all dance and skip the need to carry on awkward conversation with people that we see once every other decade or so. What I didn’t take into consideration is that roughly half of the invited folk would decline on the perception that they can’t dance. (Unfortunately, it seems that it was the male half of the invitees that squashed the idea.)

That seems so sad to me. Those people who did show up had a great time laughing and joking and DANCING! The kids in attendance last night had no qualms stepping up and grabbing a partner and with furrowed brow followed instruction with excitement and joy. A few of the more timid joined in on the second half of the dance session and discovered that they could keep up quite easily. And I think my spousal unit was a bit surprised by the event, mostly by who showed, and how much fun they had.

So Waunalandians, dance! Its fun, you can do it in the kitchen, in the streets and, well, other places. You don’t have to be a star. You don’t have to be Fred and Ginger Rogers. For those who couldn’t make the party, well, I’ll be reaching my big “five oh” in three years, four months. Start practicing now!

Big Leaf Maple. Acer macrophyllum, for you plant aficionados. A pretty straight forward common name for a tree. It is big. It has leaves. It is a Maple.

You won't find them in the nurseries or boutique plant stores in the Pacific Northwest. Why bother? Plant snobs don't like them. They are everywhere. They drop stuff. Leaf cases. Pollen. Catkins. Leaves. Helicopter-like seed pods. Branches. Whole trunks.

The forest canopy in any low land forest on the wet side of the Cascades is made up of conifers like the Douglas Fir, Western Hemlock and Western Red Cedars and the deciduous trees like Alder, Willow, Cottonwood, and the occasional oddity like the evergreen (but also always shedding) Madrona that does not have needles like the evergreens. But that is another story.

I love the Big Leaf Maple.

Springtime's last bare branches to be clothed is the Big Leaf Maple. Their peridot leaves uncurl like the scarfed skirts of ballroom dances. They cast an odd green light on the forest paths of the PNW. They tilt at crazy angles on high bank beaches of the Puget Sound and became my early life jungle gyms where I spent glorious summer days. I was Rima of Rimoloma in them, communing with bird, squirrel, cat and dog life. They provide temporary umbrellas from hot summer sun or rain squalls blown up from points South.

The Wauna-area maples dress in acid green chenille moss and accessorize with licorice fern. Their thin-tipped branches were my drinking straws when I camped. I'd find branches the trees shedded the previous year and drill out the marshmallow-like centers and peel off the thin strips of bark. (It occurs to me as I reread this, that my blog is Maple-colored.)

In early fall their enormous leaves slowly take on a pale to canary yellow and briefly, the celedon saltwater is littered with golden fairy boats drifting out with the tide.

Now the maples are stripped bare from the two wild windstorms we had early this month, and I look forward to reclining on my chenille beach chair next summer and look through the shuffled layers of green while the Wauna dog searches for beach jerky.

It has been far to long. I'm very sorry. The dance between home and work has been a challenge.

Most recently it has been the struggle of hosting the in-laws for Thanksgiving and for Derek's birthday (two days later!). My concerns are that it will be difficult to clean and keep clean the house for the events and do all the cooking for both events as well as work and volunteer at the girls schools and the YMCA too. And keep the girls happy. And take care of the animals. And take care of my parents home and mail while they are gone until April....and....pass the bottle please~ *_*

How do you super moms do it?

What do you use for $ if you hire the work done?

I'll get back to you with the compromises made.

Oh. Hello there! Did you think I'd forgotten you?

Well, you see, I have recently gotten a J.O.B.

Much like a regular job in many respects, with daily trials such as getting up at a set time, commuting to work, a desk, and various and semi-responsible tasks to perform, a J. O. B. requires 110% of my usual waking attention to keep my "learning opportunities" to a minimum.

(Read here: repeated attempts to mitigate self-imposed disasters without making me look too inept! Are you so cruel as to ask for examples? How about xeroxing 1000 copies, only to find them printed upside down, inviting a client and board-member out for margaritas the second day on the job via work e-mail as I knew her pre-employment and finding out that my boss is a staunch non-drinker, or having suggested a new way of filing although the "CURRENT sytem works PERFECTLY well THANK you very much!")

While most of the business world would find my work-a-day tasks quite mundane, I find I am challenged trying to be creative using my self-imposed gas allowance to deal with child care responsibility, errands and creating a respectable wardrobe for a moderate sum of money as a working Mom. No Prada for this worker bee!

Yes, I know, I'm not quite ready for the big league yet, but as a full-time mother and house maven, this is big for me. Truly big.

It will grow might old pretty quickly I suppose, but I am enjoying regular paychecks, a parking spot with a view of Mount Rainier and the docks of the harbor outside my office window.

I miss blogging 'though. Maybe I'll take shorter lunches and use some time at the local library for computer access on my work days. Or be creative like "Post Secret" and add a new blog just on Sundays.

I'll keep you posted. Thanks for not losing faith in me!

I suspect there is a true reason that magicians of yore used white rabbits as subjects for their prestidigitations. White rabbits, in my experience, are quite canny.

Last spring, two young bucks came into our lives via a friend who's friend couldn't keep them any longer. The Wauna menagerie was shy of rabbits, so Hubby and I agreed. After all, rabbits are not much different than, say, goldfish for entertainment. Right? Little did I know! I know that some of you veiw rabbit as a food item, but keep in mind I live in America where pets are valued by many as children are.

These new additions were dubbed Merry and Pippen and we immediately set them free from their former 3' wide by 4 1/2' wide penitentiary wire existence to a spacious rabbit wire enclosure on the ground. The children were delighted and astonished at how much fun they had. The pen we created was a 6' round complete with three large rocks in the center to climb atop of or hide below and a weedy patchy garden for bunnies to nibble on.

We learned rabbits can do the bunny fling--a wild leap and twist in the air, followed by a race in circles. They would then throw themselves down when exhausted and bask flat in the sun. They would rather be on something (rocks, a recycled bottle recycling bin, each other...) than under something.

But for Merry (who turned out to be the grumpier of the two bunnies and not nice at all) the garden was greener on the other side of the fence. Within a week, he found a high spot in the bottom of the fence and wiggled under. Off he raced to check out the neighbor's barn and horses. I didn't find him until the next day!

We anchored the wire with big rocks and figured he wouldn't budge that. But we were wrong! For his next trick, he managed to push the bottom corner of the gate and slither through the crack to freedom. We placed a cinder block in front of the gate so you had to drag it out of the way to get in. Naturally, if we would forget once to replace it after going through, he was out again. Pippen, through this whole escape attempt was content to remain in confinement.

By this time, Pippin care down with "head tilt" (many bunny illnesses are weirdly named and fatal to bunnies, come to find out) Merry ceased his escapee ways and spent his day propping up Pippin's bad side and helping him to the food and water dishes. Bunnies have compassion?! Who would have thought?

Nit picking

My maternal grandma Pearl pulled out of high school in the 9th grade. I'm unclear whether she dropped out, or that her Dad thought 14 year old girls didn't need more education. She was the youngest child of five, the only girl, and her mom passed away during the great influenza epidemic when she was 12 years old, so Gram "took care of the men." She cooked, cleaned, sewed and read a lot.

Why this bit of trivia? I suppose that is because though she never graduated from high school, her love for reading kept her educated and interested in the world. What's more, my fondest memories were our hours-long conversations over tea and toast. You would never find her at a loss for words. We would talk about politics, religion, family, music, television and books. Later in my life the topics for discussion turned more toward relationships and raising children. And our "visits" were never less than an hour long, whether over the phone, in person or by post. (Some family members would complain about that bitterly, too!)

But one thing still strikes me to this day: She would never lean on the crutches of using cheater words such as, "Ya know", "Like", "Basically", "Uh", or swear words of any kind. A good Methodist girl, she followed the commandments of "thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain" and took it to the next level. Swear words were for the simple-minded who couldn't think of anything meaningful to say.

She and I would grouse about our pet peeves. Hers was often Internet related. She would say, "It really bugs me when these announcers on TV will say 'double u, double u, double u dot'..."And she would enunciate each syllable clearly and emphatically. It makes me smile to this day when I hear someone say it.

Hey grandma, how about this one. "The people? Who are always ending each sentence fragment? With a question in their voices?"as if to constantly reassure themselves that you are hanging on their every word by asking for your approving nod. My nine year old does this, and I know that's how the other kids speak in class. But maybe I am so distracted with my thoughts I'm not keying in to what she says.

Now it gets more difficult for me to overlook people who use the word "basically" or "like" in at least every paragraph. Come folks. Truly, everything can not really be like everything else. Like, ya know?

And in conversation that is mostly conjecture why use the word "basically"? It's got to be a warning that when I looked up "basic" in the American Heritage Dictionary it used "base" in every sentence to describe it. "--n. Something that is basic. As in ba'si.cal.ly" Thanks for the clarification! If I hear one more person who uses "basically" in their conversation and then go on for another 10 minutes, I'm gonna strangle them!

I miss you Gram. I hope you and St. Peter have good conversations! You would have been a great blogger!

Okay. After the "heaviness" of my last post, I thought I'd put up some fun photos. Here's a few snow critters that the girls created when we had our cold snap.

Daughter 1 made this snow mouse just outside of our raspberry pen. (You gotta keep those berries penned. You never know what'll happen if they get loose! ^_^)

Unfortunately, the rains started up the next day, so the mouse is just a blob of snow. But cute while it lasted!

Daughter 2 created her snow "Rosa" on the lawn of a friend. They had a great time of it, and here is the results! She poached hard from the surrounding garden, so Rosa had a hydrangea hat, fir branch hair, coal eyes, carrot nose and holly arms. She sported a variegated ivy belt and matching hair band, and tangerine buttons on her snow jacket. Very lovely, I'd say.

I changed my "personality" icon on the top of the page to the snow fairy photo I took during last January's snow. The only photo shopping I did was to crop the picture and enlarge it. Pretty cool, huh? The snow was falling in huge feathery clumps because it was relatively warm and because we were so close to the water. I have no idea why the flake was "flying" upwards. Perhaps the wind was blowing from the south and was curling upwards. At any rate, some things should not be over-thought. Here's a larger shot of it: