Day Three of our Incarceration: Speed the Plow

I have determined that we should not attempt to sail around the world in a small boat, BF and I. Please send a snowplow. We are stuck and getting on each other's last nerve, a refrain I have heard throughout the neighborhood. Everyone dashed into the bright sunshine today to clear their driveways, sidewalks and decks and to air their grievances (said one woman to another "He's in my kitchen constantly! Eating!") We took turns scanning the horizon and waiting for the cheery scrape of Mr. Plow, to no avail. I now know what I will use all those neglected floss-away bags for, but the pity is, there will be no garbage pickup without the snowplow. No one can get to work tomorrow, even if the workplace is open; we can't leave the neighborhood even to go to the store. (Wailed one man to another: "I'm running out of beer!") I jest, mostly. I'm quite sure when (or if) we ever get back to work, I will look back nostalgically on our little cocoon of comfort (thank goodness we didn't lose the power, although it shivered off a number of times and came back on, only to do it again when we got all the appliance clocks re-set) and the smells of turkey-and-stuffing, and yogurt cake (see below) and slow-cooked spaghetti sauce wafting through the air (not all at the same time, of course). Definitely spring needs to come (go check out spring in Bow, Washington), so I can air out the house! It smells like food in here!

It is pretty, though we've heard we're to get another 5-8 inches of it on Tuesday into Wednesday. My front yard as of yesterday evening just as the storm ended.

I haven't had as much chance to stitch as I'd like--I seem to be constantly making a meal or cleaning up after it (In the interest of full disclosure, those meals are conceived by me. I was looking through blogs, for instance, and came upon Tongue in Cheek's French yogurt cake and had to make it immediately. I have a dozen or so containers of Brown Cow greek style vanilla and plain yogurt, and used two of those, even though they're no-fat and most french yogurt is whole-milk. I did add a little milk in case the greek style was too thick. No matter, the cake turned out wonderfully, with a moist, tender crumb and delicate tangy-lemon flavor. Like pound cake without the pound of butter.) Here's some progress on "Holy Moses."

And on "Wisdom."

Pink: "Mom, I'll bet I can dig us out with this big foot." Yes, you could, Pink, and seeing those claws makes me think that you and the other buns are going to have to have the mani-pedi spa treatment tomorrow.

Happy week ahead, all!