Snowmageddon

First, it got reeeeaaal cold. Then, it started snowing... 

Then, it got even colder, and it snowed even more... 

...and at first, it was a lot of fun...

...but then the power went out. And it got colder.

Then the power stayed out, and it got colder.

So we lit a fire and tried to make the best of it... 

...we made and ate dinner by candlelight... and it got colder.

The first time, we were without power for a little over 12 hours. The second time, we got about an hour and a half of power in the middle of the night, followed by 8 more hours without power. We stayed by the fire... 

...we read books, we played cards... 

...and we gave thanks for the fact that our oven runs on propane! We also gave thanks for friends with enough firewood to share AND the best gumbo EVER, which they also shared. Finally, the power came back on, and with eyes wide open to everything we take for granted, we started working on our piles of laundry. But first, to brew that perfect cup of joe... 

...and marvel at how beautiful that electric coffee pot looks in the sunshine! We Texans aren't cut out for winters like this!

Grandma Greiner

 

My grandma Greiner passed away this morning. She was 98 years old and though she was declining for a while, she hung in there for so long, sharp as a tack and active into her last days. She was a singer, a tailor, a pioneer woman who could can anything, sew anything, and 'make do' whenever it was necessary. 

When I was a kid, she and my grandpa would travel to "the valley" every winter, and would stop either on their way down or on their way back home (sometimes both), bringing us prizes from Mexico. One year it was a glass piggy bank, another year some solid silver bangles and earrings. She always smelled like Avon perfume, she always had her lipstick handy and her jeans pressed, and she was always up for a cup of coffee. She always called me "CourtneyAnn" like both were my one name, and she always refused to spell my middle name with an 'e' when she would write (it is actually Anne). 

I can easily recall her laugh, her jewelry, and the smell of her basement (mothballs, clean laundry, coffee...). She was always a bit mysterious to me, and little intimidating if I'm being honest, but she gave the best hugs and always had cookies handy in big jars in her kitchen. 

I miss her. 

This Moment

 

Sharing a moment from the week, a simple, special, extraordinary moment I want to savor and share. Henry mid-haircut, with the part I'm not supposed to cut saved in a little ponytail.