Cooking Wine

It's not like cooking sherry. It's the glass of wine I sip while I cook dinner. Sometimes I have another glass with dinner, sometimes not. The essential purpose is to mark the beginning of the end of the day.

Now, my brother might shudder at some of the wine that I drink. But, he has stated a number of times that if the person drinking the wine enjoys it, that's what matters. I'm in agreement with that ideology. I'd also like to say that I respect my brother for being "for the people" in that respect, even though he knows lots more about wine than I do and could act like a real wanker if he were so inclined.

Also, since it's Christmas, I want to say that I love my family -- my brother, my mom and dad, my husband, my kids -- everybody. God bless us, everyone. And that's not the wine talking.

Snow Spa

This weekend, we received a record snowfall. The kids were ecstatic. The adults, while enjoying their glee, meditated on the dark side of record snowfalls: record shoveling sessions. However, after being indoors with the kids for the good part of two days, I chose to shovel the driveway to get some "me time." Extreme situations call for extreme measures.

It was strangely peaceful outdoors. Just me and the snow and the scraping of the shovel. Not exactly a pampering spa experience, but it saved my sanity just the same.

After about an hour, the kids came outside and played in the snow. We watched neighbors with their snowblowers and even a few ATVs with snow plows get to work up the street. While the kids body-slammed snowbanks and made a grotesquely misshapen snow man, I finished my Luddite snow removal project and surveyed my handiwork.

I am Mommy, hear me roar.