Snow Day #2: Same song, second verse, more flames

My current job is the first experience where I’ve ever had to log time.

Log when I’m in meetings. Log when I’m checking emails. Log my morning hour of wistful sighing, or “admin”, as I like to call it.

It’s a weird process, and I hate it, and am also very bad at it. (“Why should I log my time?! I’m a free bird! Like a steel horse I ride! You’re never going to bring me down! I’m defying gravity!”) But talk on the streets is they’re cracking down on accurate time logging, so it’s something I’m trying to be, at the very least less bad at doing. So much so, without thinking too much about it, yesterday morning as I was trying to build momentum, still in my pajamas, and trying to beat one of the pirate levels of Plants vs. Zombies 2, I thought to myself, “how am I going to log this time?”

Then I remembered it’s Saturday, and my job has ruined me. It occurred to me though, there are worse things than being accountable for your time.

But only on weekends. During the week, I’ve gotta make my own kind of music! If I want to sing out, I’ll sing out! Nothing left for me to do, but dance! Or something…

After thinking that, I actually got out of bed. Yes, be proud of me.

So having hypothetical HR might actually be pretty handy. Especially when it snowed for approximately 29381209 hours, and you’re stuck inside. Would my imaginary HR approve of 6 hours of Plants vs. Zombies 2, even if you are really determined to topple the piano playing zombie that makes all of the zombies faster and jazzier?

No, no they would not. So let’s read a book!

Would they approve of me continually walking around my full recycling instead of taking it out?

Again, probably not. Let’s do some cleaning.

With hypothetical HR sighing, rolling their eyes, and making cracks about me dying under a toppled stack of celebrity biographies, snow day #2 went a little bit differently than last weekend.

Painted Portraits

Inspiration comes from many places. Sometimes it comes from a certain color or a song. Other times it comes from the imagined ancestors of my family dog, Mattie.

Meet Madame Pup-adour, Mattie’s French ancestor. A portrait in progress and a puppy in repose.

Who needs actual painting skills to convey majesty like this?

Marie Antoinette said, “let them eat cake!”
To which madame Pup-adour said, “I will also have some cake!”

Descartes said, ” I think, therefore, I am!”
And Madame Pup-adour said, “I stink, because I’m a dog.”

Victor Hugo said, “Life is a flower of which love is the honey.”
Madame Pup-adour said, “That’s not how flowers work.”

I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I agree. This was a great use of my time.

Made Snow Cream

I grew up in a region where snow was not uncommon, but it was rare enough that it still had some magic whenever it arrived.

One of our snow traditions was making snow cream. The fact that snow cream was packaged and marketed for a brief period makes me think that my family wasn’t alone, but it was a nice ritual. If you are unfamiliar with snow cream, think of a snow cone. You use snow as a base, and can add flavor on top of that. We most often used milk and vanilla.

Now I live in a region where snow is less magical, more a specter of sadness. But if you were ever going to become a snow creamer, the noun for people who specialize in snow cream, definitely a real thing, Wisconsin is the perfect starting place.

So, team. We’re going to make snow cream.

I don’t have milk, but I do have orange juice, so more specifically, we’re going to make snow cream-sicle!


  • One big bowl of snow
  • Orange juice
  • 1 teaspoon Vanilla


  1. Mix all the ingredients.
  2. Remember childhood.

Review: Ignoring the connotations with yellow snow, it’s pretty refreshing. It actually ended up tasting more like an orange Julius. Which, if we’re being honest, is my favorite Julius.

Ok, snow. You’re not so bad.

Next batch: Milk and cocoa mix

Fought Fires

Before we go any farther, let’s address the obvious. Yes, I am very brave.

When an Eggo waffle falls off your pan, and lands on the coil in the oven, and catches on fire, not everyone would have the presence of mind to step back, calmly say “WHAT DO YOU DO FOR AN OVEN FIRE!?!” and then turn the oven off, and be surprised when the fire stops on its own.


Not today, Eggo waffle!!

It really just takes a special type of person to be this brave.

 Went on a Walk 


Conditions are perfect!

When it feels like -20 degrees outside, a person’s first instinct is, “well, sure. I think I’ll go on a walk!”

More realistically, when you spend all day inside, you start to miss fresh air, so “layering” becomes more reasonable the colder it gets. What I learned today though is, Weather Underground isn’t being dramatic. They’re not lying to you. They’re not joking.

When they say it feels like -20 degrees outside, it feels like -20 degrees outside.

This was the point in the walk where my whole face started to hurt.

Why does it hurt so much to be outside?! 

Why are you the way that you are, Wisconsin? Who wronged you? Do we need to make you some snow cream to recapture your childhood wonder? So you’ll stop punishing people for trying to take a walk?

Help me to help you, Wisconsin. Help me to help you.

I should probably make more snow cream, so I’ll stop yelling at a state.

Winter does things to a person. Even hypothetical HR understands that.

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