The more it snows ~~
tiddely pom,
The more it goes ~~
tiddely pom,
The more it goes ~~
tiddely pom
On snowing ~~
And nobody knows~~
tiddely pom ,
How cold my toes ~~
tiddely pom,
Are growing.
-A.A. Milne
It's been snowing off and on in Seattle since Saturday. This is a rare and wondrous event in our area, and hills, temps, urban tree canopy, and little plowing make for a city-wide snow holiday when it snows this much for this long. Schools have been closed since Tuesday. Ice storms had Sea-Tac airport grounded yesterday, trees falling, and hundreds of thousands of people without power. It's a big deal around here.
Tuesday afternoon, Matt, the eminent bread-maker in our family, made a Peter Reinhart recipe for cinnamon rolls. He's become so attached to "Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day," that he nearly lost faith, but he pulled through in the end.
We were all glad he did--especially Avonlea, who woke up on Wednesday morning and promptly took over my plate of cinnamon roll, declaring: "Avi's!" I think she mostly liked the frosting.
Matt's a brave Minnesota-bred boy, and he took Avonlea down the hill to Nonny and Bob's (Avo's names for them these days) for some play time while I beavered away on my manuscript revisions.














