Me, me, me

Like Antarctica with houses.

The much-heralded snowstorm yesterday was just quite a lot of snow, as it turned out. But today is downright nasty. The wind is bitter and it's whipping the snow around and shaking the trees and howling around the houses. D. is happy though, because he got to push someone's car out of snow bank. He lives to help people in distress. He shoulda been a search and rescue worker. Mmmmm, search and rescue worker. Sexy!

We were the lucky recipients of a whirlwind visit from D.'s mother yesterday and overnight. I say lucky not because it was lovely to see her, tho' it was quite nice, but because her visit to our home seems to have been an afterthought, and we're lucky she deigned to see us at all. As far as we can tell, she was going to Toronto to visit her other son (the one she likes, apparently), and she made a short side trip to Montreal to "see her montreal friends" in her words. She was going to just come by today and get D. to drive her to the bus station, but D. convinced her to stay overnight so that she could see her grandchildren. Is this weird, or am I hypersensitive?

Anyway, the pathetic fallacy (or my version of same, where the weather corresponds to one's emotional state) is in full effect. The strange thing was, it was a nice visit. I like her, and I think she likes us, so why the big chill? We may never know...