For Want of Snow

Save for the three teaspoons of snow we received a few weeks prior, there hasn’t been any snow here this year. And that’s awful.

On the one hand, no snow means that the schools here won’t immediately jump to snow days. Last year the schools climbed over themselves to get every available day off, and as a result the children were home for half of December, not counting winter break. At least this year the teachers have only managed to get off every national, Christian, and Jewish holiday.

On the other hand, no snow means… no snow. While Idaho is busy being #FFFFFF, this particular portion of the east coast has all the charm of plain porridge, and none of the fiber.


Just looking at this makes me want to sip some plain coffee while I draw up some spreadsheets and watch the dying fly dive-bomb the coworker in the next cubicle. 

Winter used to be one of my favorite months, but now I’m starting to understand seasonal depression. Dead, skeletal trees do make Halloween better, but they do nothing in grey winter but look even more grey. Even when it does snow, the snow doesn’t stay on them long. They don’t really capture that Christmas card feel, it has to be said.


I tried to play some Christmas music to cheer myself up, but I think the printer is also suffering from seasonal depression.

So I resolved to make my own snow instead.


Clip board, tape, dental floss, measuring tape, pencil, scissors, staples, many sheets of paper, and too much time on my hands.

I decided to make both three dimensional and flat snowflakes, so that I could experience paper in a myriad of ways. As such, I used the three dimensional tutorial found here, and the flat snowflake tutorial found here. I link these because I realized I was far too lazy to post all the steps here myself, and also because I wouldn’t want anyone to mistakenly believe I was able to come up with these things on my own.


You can tell you’re doing it correctly when you’ve worked two dozen microscopic triangles of paper into your carpet too well for the vacuum cleaner to retrieve it later.

I try to reuse the scraps to make smaller versions of whatever I’m crafting, but inevitably I’m left with a small mountain of paper bits and the knowledge that my fake snow waste is probably contributing less real snow. Oh well, crafts!


Always stop for tea, and use the rejected snowflakes as doilies.

The key to crafting, I find, is to make the biggest mess you can possibly make, so that when you have to clean it up you’re completely put off of crafts for a few months, resulting in more free time and less money spent. I think I went overboard this time; I can’t imagine wanting to make paper snowflakes again for a year. (Conveniently.)img_20161206_151905970

Lawns stay green all year long when you’re in the city, did you know?

The end result was decently adequate, which is what I inspire to in life, so I was pleased. It made the room feel more festive, and I’m every trying to transform my living space from the beige default monstrosity it started as, so every little bit helps.


And hey, something has to distract me from the fact that I think I’m getting another cold and won’t be able to properly sing a Christmas song until Easter.

Brunches and Bashes

As the leaves change colors and the cold seeps in, my friends rustle their wings and drive south to eat brunch on the regular.

I was very excited at the idea of brunch, because I had never seriously eaten brunch before. “Gosh,” I was thinking, “what an amazing concept! Instead of eating breakfast or lunch you can eat one big combination in the middle! How revolutionary!”

So myself and seven of my friends planned on going out to eat brunch this morning. 11:00 sharp, they said. I could hardly wait.

As 11:00 neared, a group text was sent out, explaining that even though we had a reservation, a reservation of 20 people had pushed our eating date back to 11:30 to 11:45. All right, that’s fine. We can wait that long, what’s the rush?

So at 11:30, we showed up at the restaurant and were told they could not seat us until all of our party was there. This seemed fair. We were only missing one person, and the restaurant was so crowded that there was a line out the door. While we waited for the last arrival, we wondered why this restaurant in particular, a rather generic looking place, happened to be so woefully crowded. No conclusions were drawn.

At 11:45, our last member collected, we approached the podium again, only to be told that our table wasn’t ready because the previous group of people were still eating. Well, this wasn’t the restaurant’s fault. Some prodding on the part of our ringleader made the hostess reluctantly say that it would be another twenty or thirty minutes.

Well, 12:10 wasn’t so bad. We dispersed, walked around the pet store, poked through the sewing shop, chatted a little. When 12:10 came by, we headed back to be seated.

“We’re sorry, but the previous table is still there,” the frazzled hostess announced, pointing at the monitor, which displayed a blurry group of individuals who were apparently part sloth. “It will just be a little while longer.”

The sloths were in an intense “who can eat the slowest” competition, and showed no desire to leave. Because the restaurant was so crowded, my friends and I shivered outside and stared in through the windows at the sloth party, pretending to be starving British paupers dying of Poor Disease.

At 12:45 the sloths decided it was probably time to leave, and only stayed another ten or so minutes. At 12:55, the waiters cleared the table and set it. At 1:05, we were finally called in to be seated, and drink orders were taken. I ordered a tea.

At this point I was seriously considering whether brunch was worthwhile. “This doesn’t seem all that great,” I mused silently. “Brunch time is too crowded to be-”

And then I was presented with a masterpiece.


Instead of sugar, they gave you a rock candy stick to stir your tea with.

This was the most amazing thing I had seen in my life. I brandished the rock candy stick in everyone’s faces. “Look, guys!” I exclaimed, in pure rapture. “I can stir my tea with a rock candy stick! My tea! Rock candy stick!”

My friends were less than impressed.

All in all, I think the wait was worth it simply for the joy of being able to stir with a rock candy stick. Imagine that, like it was a spoon and everything. Amazing.

This is also the time of year when my friends throw Halloween parties, and despite the cold and the wind and the rain and the mud and the threat of all of this worsening, there’s an outdoor party being held tonight. I tend to put off my costumes until the last minute, but fortunately I had a cosplay costume my sister had made for me leftover in my closet.


I enjoy being Ms. Frizzle because it’s the only time having frizzy red hair and a large nose really come in handy.