The Ice Storm

I don't remember ice storms occurring with such resolute frequency during my previous tours of duty in the northeast. We had one last Monday (it struck before we arrived back from L.A., leaving every tree we passed completely encased in ice for most of the morning) and another one last night, and a nervous person (say, like my husband) might argue that the first snowy day we experienced also started out as an ice storm--even I would have to agree that it was sleeting that day, at least at the outset.

There was ice half an inch thick on our driveway yesterday morning, and as a result--we stayed home. The little girl across the street came for an afternoon playdate, which broke up the kid tedium and kept the television off most of the day, which felt like a great personal victory.

We (well, the intrepid H--I slept in, because I went to the airport at 11:30 last night to fetch the new au pair, the lovely Japanese, who will get another nom de blog as soon as my clever switch kicks over) got the kids to their respective engagements this morning and now as I type this, there's a steady rainy drip of melting icicles falling on our copper roof. The clouds are blowing through the sky pretty fast,and though there's sun above them, rain is predicted for today. One thing I like about living in weather is that the predictions are often wrong. In L.A., there was no point in paying any attention to forecasts, because they didnt' much matter anyway.

Darling Monika (a lovely and loyal reader) has asked about Christmas plans and menu....our tree is up, as are gorgeous wreaths, all procured from a local tree farm. The H and Dido actually sawed our fraser fir down themselves, and we dragged it through the snow to tie it atop our car and bring it home. It was coated in ice and so we left it in the garage for two days to drip dry before bringing it inside to, as the Babe said, "decoration it." We built a gingerbread house (from a kit--god bless my favorite, Trader Joe's) and decorationed that, too. Now all that's left is wrapping and hanging stockings by the chimney with care--and planning a four person festivity when we're used to entertaining a dozen every Christmas morning. I need to start a new tradition, and I feel a little stumped, though I'm sure something will come.