the boys enjoyed a two-day holiday from school, compliments of a ten inch dousing of snow.
so we did a bit of this
and quite a bunch of this
(please note my sweet housing development on park place/boardwalk, through which i methodically annihilated the competition. go me.)
when i wasn't tramping through drifts with my camera or getting trounced in a game of blokus or memory, i was busy developing a cold. my personal recipe for curing the common cold goes like this: slog five miles on the treadmill, read an old novel, eat some sweet rolls. voila.
so far it hasn't worked, but i haven't given up hope on the rolls.
digression: so the novel i'm reading is set in eighteenth century scotland, and as a free bonus i find the ever-present voice in my head speaking with an accent as i go about my daily routine, uttering phrases like i didna ken vitamin c would taste so verra vile, or mentally referring to my kids as laddie or bonny lass.
and now i am off to read a wee bit of LOTR to my firstborn, and possibly hit the sack early. after another sweet roll.