Friday, November 5, 2010

It's The Most Awfulest Time Of The Year



Dear Laney,

When your dad and I were dating, he would tell me how his house in Montana was beautiful and scenic and blah blah blah. But there's this thing called "lie by omission," which means somebody leaves out a fact that is so important that to NOT share it would almost qualify as a lie. I wonder if I can think of an example...

OH! I know! Here's one: your dad let me move into this house without telling me that for almost 4 months of the year, the sun doesn't hit it. Since we live nestled at the bottom of a mountain, in the winter the sun doesn't rise high enough in the sky to shine over the mountain, and we end up living in perma-dusk.

Your Grandma Sue tried to make me feel better by suggesting, "You can always climb halfway up that mountain over there to see the sun!" Ugh. The only thing I hate more than gloomy winter weather is cardio.

Today, we hit the day when the sun no longer rises above the mountain, and your Mom starts counting the days til March. I'm trying to be optimistic, but it's hard when our yard looks like this. At 3pm. In November.


I don't want to rain on your little snow parade, because you seem to LOVE the cold. You especially like chewing on fleece, so your closet is a winter's worth of treats.


Transitioning to happier news, I'm sorry I ever doubted your ability to walk because you have taken to it like a duck to water. Like a goat to grass. Like a fish to avoiding your dad.*


1 down, 124 days to go.

Love,
Mom

* Nope, those jokes never get old.

1 comment:

  1. Dear Laney,

    Your mother used to live in the land of perpetual sunshine, Los Angeles. On they day when you lost sun for 4 months, it was 85 degrees and gorgeous...in November. Some call it earthquake weather. We call it the reason we live here.

    When you are old enough, you are welcome to come visit any time. You will have to leave Gus at home because he doesn't like the heat. Ben is here to eat any crayons you wish to share.

    Brian

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