The long-awaited Biggest-Snowfall-Of-The-Season has finally arrived. In these Apocalyptic Days, Minnesota Winters have often been anemic things, nothing like the bitter cold and heavy snow old-timers remember, and brag of having survived. It is true that things have changed: in my 30-plus years as a resident of the Gopher State, I've seen the start of the season pushed back by over a month, well into December, with snowfalls that measure in inches, rather than feet.
In any case, it's the end of February, and we're finally getting some snow. We are forecast to get up to a foot of the cold white stuff between today and tomorrow, or at least so my kids are hoping. I already ran the snow-blower once this evening, and will probably have to run it again a couple of times before all this is over.
(Strange: it's a near-blizzard outside right now, with snow coming down fast and furious, but I just saw a flash of lightning, and heard a clap of thunder.)
You know, I am amazed that the Native Americans and early Europeans could even survive in such climes. I have the benefit of indoor heating, and relatively efficient snow removal equipment at my disposal. I have seen the surviving cabins and teepees they lived in, and I glad it was them, and not me.
I'm on Daddy Duty again this weekend, except this is a slightly-out-of-ordinary one, given that Mrs. Muzzy isn't working, but is, in fact, just down the road at an area hotel, attending a convention-gathering of fellow scrap-bookers, all sponsored by a local scrap-booking retail outlet. She will be working on the various photo albums she's been assembling over the past few years.
It's been Mrs. Muzzy's goal to put together a series of album-scrapbooks for each of the girls, chronicling their lives from birth to presumably whenever they leave the nest, and possibly beyond. Like so many other post-modern fellow scrap-bookers, she is not content to merely slap photos onto pages, but adds color and legends to it all.
I must say, she does a good job, but life being what it is, she isn't able set aside unbroken hours for such projects, and merely pokes at them as time permits. is usually working on photos from several years back, She is always striving to catch up to the present. The purpose for the retreat, then, is to get as much done on the project as possible in a couple short days, all in the company of like-minded folk. My part in the process is the supervision of the wee ones, and I have no reason to complain. I love spending time with my girls, and find them delightful, even when they leave me a wee bit batty.
After the girls had gone to sleep, I spent some time watching a film I checked out of the local library, a lovely Brazilian movie called 'Central Station.' I won't spoil the plot for the teeming dozens who read this blog - in case they haven't seen it - but I found it absolutely wonderful. The story and script are well-written, the acting astonishingly good, and the cinematography is gorgeous. I most highly recommend it.
A couple of notes: the movie is in Portuguese - which I speak with complete fluency - but oddly enough, the version I watched had no way to turn off the English subtitles. That annoyed me. Also, I didn't know until after I'd watched the whole film that the little boy of the film had no acting experience when he took the role of Josue', that he'd been a shoe-shine boy. He's an amazing actor.
Well, I'm falling asleep, and so it's off to sleepy bye.