Snow is predicted, the gov't is closed, and - so help me - if this forecast is another bust, I am moving to Canada. At least there one can assume a snowy winter.
Take that, global warming.
Someone sent me an email last night reminding me that I had volunteered (apparently in a state of temporary insanity) to help copy edit the magazine put out by the largest homeschool support organization in our state. Was I bored? Did I not have enough knitting to do? Was I thinking to pad my resume for the paid editing job that I will never find?
So, due to my regrettable tendency to pile on, I will have plenty to do today while waiting for snow that may or may not fall. What with the editing and the knitting and the ritualistic consumption of snow-day hot cocoa and slabs of crisp no-knead bread slathered with butter and homemade jam, I won't even have time to shovel, should the need miraculously arise.
Besides, that's what able-bodied teen sons are for...