Walking Is My Worst - est Enemy

Well, the grandkids have arrived. They missed the bulk of Saturday's storm, arriving about an hour before it hit in full vengeance.

They brought their skates as we live 2 blocks from the arena and there is lots of free skating this week. They brought their swimsuits for the hot tub. And they brought their skis.

Sunday we decided to go skating. James, who is 7 asked if we would be driving to the arena. When he was reminded that it was only 2 blocks and we would walk, he said "Oh no! Walking is my worst -est enemy."
Art Linklaeter would be laughing.

What Do Conrad Black and I Have In Common?

What Do Conrad Black And I Have In Common?
Like Conrad Black- I lost my title. Yesterday's blog posting was title-less. I lost mine to cyber space (or maybe a spaced-out state of mind) and Conrad lost his to - what was that again? Oh yea. Greed and avarice.

And what do you think this is? Beyond Brenda's messy kitchen, I mean. This is
"The Grandkids Are Coming... The Grandkids Are Coming".
And Grandma is making cookies. Ginger Sparklers. A known favourite.

As well as Charlie and the Grandkids, friends from London are coming too. I think it will be the first time that those from the south, travelling north are likely to have worse weather than those from the north travelling south. Either way, I am always anxious until they walk - well, actually, hop, skip, jump, run, holler, dance etc - through the door.

So if I don't post too much next week, it is because I will be busy doing this.

This was taken at Christmas time. That's me with my mouth open. You see the 3 beauteous grandkids - Sarah and Abi beside me. Toothless James in front. And their two London friends.

Or this.

This was taken last year, during March Break. Fred, Peter, James and Abi.
Happy March Break,

There you have it. Front and Back of the Leftovers Vest. See all those ends? That is my next job. I got some of them done at knit group this afternoon. Then I came home and read Patti-Ann's comment from yesterday. I had forgotten all about Patrick's (see him at villageyarns) little tip for weaving in ends, as you go, on the machine. Dang. I've got my work cut out for me.

And this is what Fred faced yesterday in yet another winter storm. I can't remember a winter when the most frequently used phrase on the radio has been 'winter storm warning'.

This winter, some of our ski friends could not get here because of the weather and some could not get home for the same reason. A few weeks ago, my friend Tina and her family arrived on a Friday for a ski weekend. Sunday morning at 8 am, they left for home. At 3:30 pm they were back, having gone about 25 K.

One of the town's snow plow operators was quoted in the local paper, saying that in his 40 years of snow plowing, there has never been a year when every road in the county was closed. Until this year, when that happened twice.

But it is drawing to a close soon. I always get wistful when winter ends. No more skiing. No more brisk sunny days. Only that oppressive heat and humidity to look forward to. And who wears hand knit sweaters in the summer? That's the worse part.