20 different words for snow

I've heard people say that the Eskimos have 20 different words for snow. I only know about 5 ways to talk about snow, but my vocabulary is expanding. It snowed over Thanksgiving weekend and was about all melted by the time we returned from Grandma and Grandpa's house. We thought about buying a shovel, but didn't.

Yesterday the day started out with freezing rain, then rain, the freezing rain again. Then in the evening the rain became heavy wet snow flakes. Every evening event was canceled, and we listened as two of our neighbors shoveled their drives together.

This morning Matt shoveled most of ours and then left for work. He called from work early to tell me that everything was very wet. Snow was still coming down and I called it a snow day for our family and we stayed in our PJ's and did laundry. The children found their snow clothes and played outside for a little bit.

After lunch, everyone went down for naps and I attempted to clear the rest of the drive and front walk. All I can say is this is not Idaho snow. It's mostly water and a little bit of ice. It's so heavy that my shoulder hurt after doing just a few shovel fulls. It's going to make great snow forts, snow men, sledding hills . . . but it really stinks to shovel.

The Thanksgiving Tree

This year we tried something new. We made this lovely tree. We have had a good time and many FHE activities full of writing our thank yous and putting them on our tree.

We wish you a very happy Thanksgiving. And know that most of you made the tree.

xoxxo,
The Svedins

The Color of Butternut Squash

Have you seen pictures of my house yet? I keep promising to post some and then never do. Here is a picture for your imagination. My house was built in the late 40's and has some very interesting colors in it. The most interesting and dated color can be found in the kitchen which coordinates coincidentally with the master bedroom. (You think the previous owner liked this color much?) Some might call it Pink. Some might call it Mauve. But as I prepared dinner tonight I realized that it is neither pink nor mauve. The color of my kitchen is the beautiful fleshy, pink color of Butternut Squash skin, which I think is an absolutely beautiful color, especially next to the bright orange color inside the squash. (That is the color of my back bathroom.)

As I peeled squash tonight for this recipe it accursed to me that the skin I was peeling off was an identical match to my counter tops. Although it is not my favorite color in bulk I can appreciate it a little better now. I sure do love the color of butternut squash, especially in the Fall.

By the way, the squash recipe was delicious. I kept thinking it would make a wonderful Thanks Giving Day side dish. You might even try making it with yams instead of squash.

Smiling Grey

Check it out! Isn't he handsome!?! Two months old and already smiling like a pro. He must know something about how great his life is . . . or is going to be. LOVE IT!

Grandma, this is for you.

Ups and Downs

The trees are down. The fence is up. The leaves are raked. And all just in time because today it snowed, and then it rained. The flurry of Fall work these past few weeks reminds me of this book:

Hurry Hurry Mary Dear by N.M. Bodecker

Only in this book poor Mary is alone in her endeavors, and I have a hard working husband to blame for most of what get's done around here. I feel like very few people around here believe in their own ability to get things done. They are always saying they have done something when what they really mean is they have hired someone to do it for them. When said people visit and see the work Matt has done taking down trees and putting up fences they are truly amazed that he did it himself. I think they also consider him a little bit crazy for working so hard. Time is money around here . . . or something like that. Maybe it's, "Why do it yourself when you can boost the economy by paying someone else to do it for you."

My only contribution this fall consists of 1 quart and 1 pint of apple sauce (almost all eaten) and a freshly raked lawn threes weeks in a row.

Driving At Night

The ladies here meet every week for volleyball at the church. I like (in all little letters) volleyball, but I don't love it. It reminds me of all those activities and tournaments you can probably read about in the journals of my youth. I'm sure I'm the only non-volleyball enthusiast who knows what it means to be "second hit," or who has a solid under-hand serve. Every time I see a ball fly toward me I hear Brother Moon's voice telling me to cushion the hit, slow it down, and stay in my half moon formation.

So I've been spending my "volleyball nights" doing other things, like shopping the JC Penny's sales. But Matt talked me into it this week, and as I drove to the church I realized why I don't like to drive at night. Like any other place, it's dark here, but unlike other places, there aren't very many street lights, even on major roads.

At one point I was on a section of road that had been recently repaved with only the middle line repainted. I watched the yellow line to make sure I was staying on the road. No big deal, right . . . until a couple of cars come your way and you have to stare right into their head lights because there is no where else to look to keep yourself on the road.

Oh Upstate New York. I don't know why you have to keep it so dark at night; perhaps so we can always see the beautiful stars.

Leftovers Night

I never thought I would say that I feel lucky to have had leftovers tonight, but I do. This day was a fun one. While Jill was in school I watched my friend's little boy and raked leaves. Then I picked up Jill and drove to meet Matt for lunch. The girls LOVED that.

Then we went to play with some friends for the afternoon. We got home around 4 and pulled out the leftovers. I happily started my dishwasher half full.