The sad thing is, it's not really that cold here. It's in the 50s and 60s right now, and I think it's supposed to drop down to the 40s. But nothing too cold. My Canadians would laugh at me right about now. Still, it feels ridiculously cold to me, especially after 105+ degree summers.
The reason I've been obsessing over coldness lately is because I know that we're going to head up to the mountains (read: the snow) soon. I don't think I like snow. Don't get me wrong--I like to look at it. I especially like to look at it through large picture windows in a mountain cabin while sitting by a fire and drinking hot chocolate. But I don't think I like being in it. As part of my attempted (literal) renaissance, though, the rules state I have to jump into life feet first and not just pansy around on the fringes. So into the snow I will go.
And no, these pictures have nothing to do with the snow. They're from park/shopping trips we've done over the last week. But I had nothing interesting to go along with them, so I thought I would talk about the snow.
On a funny note, Thanksgiving is in a week and a half, and I have to cook for it. Seriously. Well, this should be interesting. Let's hope whatever I do turns out edible, eh? Otherwise, that would be rather unfortunate.
Oh! One last thing. We're going to Disneyland with the grandparents (GeeGee and Papa of the cemetery fame--haha, wow, that sounds wrong) in December. It should be fun. I got a suite at a Marriott in Anaheim for $30/night. What could be better than that? We're staying down there after that to hang with M's family through Christmas. I don't know how I feel about being away from home during our last US Christmas. Sometimes it makes me sad and sometimes I don't care.
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