It's Winter. Christmas is Nearly Here. Why is It in the 50s?

Far be it for me to complain about not having to wear a coat this morning when I was out and about doing the last dregs of my Christmas shopping, but come on, this temperate weather is getting ridiculous.

Unlike in previous years, The Spouse has been stupendously organized when it comes to our ice rink. He has had the homemade rink up in our yard since early November. Problem is, it hasn’t been cold enough for a long enough period of time for ice to freeze.

The only water in our rink – which The Spouse modified this year, elevating part of it with a complex system of wooden braces so one end wouldn’t be substantially deeper than the other because the ground isn’t totally level – is collected rainwater. So half of the rink has water while the lining on the dry half is flapping in the wind.

I know that I’m risking Mother Nature’s ire here by belly-aching that it’s been so mild, but it’s bizarre that Halloween trick-or-treating was postponed, that we lost power for days and had to huddle in our living room sleeping next to the fire because of a freak October snowstorm and here it is, nearly Christmas, and it’s nearly 60 degrees.

Believe it or not, I actually want to put on those skates that we bought last winter and do some ice skating.

Notes from a Snow Day: Ice Rink, Movie Surprise, Chicken Stir Fry & Max in the Snow

Hey, What's This? Could It Be . . . an Actual Skating Rink? In Our Yard? YES!!!

I present to you . . . the ice rink as the foot-and-a-half of snow that fell from the sky since early this morning was being shoveled off of it.

The rink is brought to us by many, many hours of hard work and loving maintenance by The Spouse for his three children.

This week, I've added "buy skates" (for me and The Eldest Boy) to my "To Do" list this week.

The Spouse, who broke his wrist last year while skating on a public rink, is still shying away from skating, in spite of this great effort.

Eat, Pray . . . Whoa!!!

While the males in the family were snuggled up in front of the fireplace this weekend watching NFL playoff games, The Girl and I retreated to my room to watch the PG-13 rated film Eat Pray Love on DVD.

I'd read the book, so I figured that there might be one questionable scene near the last third of the film when the main character Liz is in Bali, which might require fast-forwarding or for me to mute the TV while The Girl averts her eyes. While I waited for Liz's relationship with Felipe, the man who would become her spouse, to commence, I totally did not expect a twentysomething male to drag Liz down to the waterfront and suddenly strip naked as he was trying to entice Liz to go skinny dipping.

Both The Girl and I shrieked as his butt was in the center of the screen and I hit, "Stop." The irony is that when Felipe and Liz were about to physically commence their love affair I suggested that The Girl go fetch a snack from the kitchen, only there was nothing she couldn't have seen, no nudity, no sex.

'Delicious' Chicken Stir Fries

More irony . . .

Whenever I pull out my wok, the Picket Fence Post kids roll their eyes. They're not fans of anything I might create inside of that thing. I've tried making them sweet stir fries, garlicky ones and even plain, soy sauce-based ones. But no matter how I prepared a stir fry, the kiddos usually take one bite, wrinkle their noses and wind up having cereal for dinner while The Spouse and I eat what I made.

Unless, of course, The Eldest Boy and The Girl happen to be the ones who made the stir fry. They're both currently taking Home Ec in their middle school -- which has been relabeled with the politically correct moniker, "Family Consumer Science" -- and in the past week they've both come home from school with a container of a chicken, vegetable noodle stir fry that they'd made. They were absolutely delighted with their creations and gobbled them up while I watched, amazed.

My new plan: The next time I pull out the work, I'm also going to pull The Eldest Boy and The Girl into the kitchen with me so the "experts" can show me how it's really done.

Cute Max Snow Pic

Max the dog -- who still spends much of his time rooting around the house looking for non-edible items that he can eat or gnaw on (tissues, dryer sheets, ball point pens, socks, etc.) -- was startled when we let him out onto our deck this morning and the snow was nearly as high as he is tall. He tried pushing his body through the snow, but stopped after traveling only a few feet and tried to get back into the house. (If snow was up to my eyeballs, I'd want to retreat too.)

However once The Spouse shoveled out several pathways for him, he romped around his little paths as though he were in a hedge maze. 'Twas very cute. The wet dog smell he has now that he's drying off, not so cute.

Ice Rink . . . Still a Work-in-Progress

Ah, The Spouse. He tries so very hard on so many things. And try he has for several years to create for our three Picket Fence Post kids a backyard ice rink. Operative word is try.

This year his efforts have shown the most promise in that I've actually toyed with going out to the store and buying myself some ice skates for the first time since junior high.

Until The Collapse on Sunday.

After I'd learned that we were forecast to have a string of bitterly cold days, I suggested to The Spouse that we fill the rink with water over the weekend. He got out the hose and put some water into it on Saturday and things were A-OK. Hopes were starting to rise in the Picket Fence Post household.

But then Sunday came and, just before we were going to go out to buy our Christmas tree, The Spouse was checking on the status of the water in the rink and noticed that one area of the plastic lining -- that had been tethered to the PVC pipe frame with plastic connector ties -- was bowing out. When he tried to adjust it, a tide of water came streaming out, across his shoes and sweeping his gloves, which had been on the ground, away. (The rest of us, who'd piled in the car in order to go get the tree, cooled our heels while we waited for him to change his shoes and grab new gloves.)

While The Spouse and I attended The Youngest Boy's hockey game later that afternoon, I shared the latest ice rink developments with my fellow hockey moms and one of 'em offered to send her husband (who'd bought rink supplies through Craig's List and has a big rink) over to the house to help out. The Spouse took it all in stride and said he realizes he needs to go out and buy some boards to support the plastic lining.

As for me, I'm trying not to snicker as I cross my fingers in the hopes that we'll have a workable rink in our yard some time before the children go off to college.

Three for Thursday: Ice Rink Part 47 Billion, Kids to the Polls, 'The Middle' . . . for a Much-Needed Laugh

Image credit: Amazon.com

Ice Rink, Part 47 Billion

Yes, we’re trying again.

To do this home ice rink thing.

(And yes, we know we're fools.)

For years, The Spouse and I have thought, “Gee, wouldn’t it be nice to have an ice rink in the backyard?” The Youngest Boy plays hockey and adores skating, while The Eldest Boy and The Girl have eagerly chimed in how much they’d love to skate at home. I’d even be willing to get myself a pair of skates if we had a rink at home.

The problem? All of our previous attempts have failed miserably. (We took a break from our annual humiliation last year.) I’ve chronicled our mishaps for years, much to The Spouse’s chagrin, including the time when we tried just flooding the yard with water and the time when we got the wrong kind of tarp resulting in the water draining out of the rink area and into the woods, where it frozen amid the trees. The Spouse is really sick of hearing about how we never got the ice rink thing off the ground.

But he’s back again for punishment this year, emboldened with a new tarp. I’m not sure what else he’s planning to use because I’ve been hesitant to bring the subject up. It's been a sore subject, though I suspect he was motivated by me saying that I was thinking of buying one of those ice rink kits and giving it to the kids for Christmas.

Anyone with a home ice rink, got any suggestions or advice before we embark upon this . . . again?

Kids to the Polls

We all made our family trek to the polls on Tuesday, the entirety of the Picket Fence Post family, minus Max the dog and the 400 pounds of Halloween candy that now lives with us. The Girl accompanied me to the voting booth. The Youngest Boy was with The Spouse, while The Eldest Boy moved back and forth between booths relaying questions to and from The Spouse and checking out for whom I was voting.

When we checked out, The Girl and The Eldest Boy were jostling over who would get to feed my ballot – a sheet of paper – into the voting machine. I was a bit concerned that they’d wrinkle it, thereby rendering my ballot invalid, so I started getting antsy, muttering under my breath that someone needed to let go, NOW. The Eldest Boy finally relinquished it so his sister could feed it into the machine.

The next day, however, when some of the folks whom The Youngest Boy hoped would win didn’t, I had to remind him that the concept of good sportsmanship applies to politics as well as sport.



The Middle . . . for a laugh

It’s been a fairly stressful couple of weeks here at the Picket Fence Post house. And I sorely needed a laugh last night. In a big way. And watching a new episode of The Middle did just the trick. I laughed out loud while watching it -- more so than I did with Modern Family, which was also funny, but not as much as The Middle.

The episode focused on the hilarious birth story of the youngest child in the family, Brick. It was not at all what I expected when the story was finally told. The tale involved lies, greed, rabid football fandom and idiocy.

Image credit: Amazon.com.