And the Rain Fell in Sheets...Flannel Preferred

On Saturday, the promised snowstorm blew into town, blanketing our property in just enough stuff to support a fiberglass sled for about a dozen runs. Numb hands draped holiday lights from the eaves and shrubberies and by the end of the evening, it was a festive, glowing delight. Even my kids had to take a moment to compliment me and I'll always welcome that.

We went out that night to see "No Country for Old Men," the new Coen brothers film starring Javier Bardem (in his best/worst Prince Valiant hair-don't and Carol Burnett-playing-Nora Desmond crazy-eyes), Josh Brolin (who has grown up so ruggedly from his "Goonies" days, looking like the lost, grit-covered son of suave "Mr. Streisand" James Brolin) and the ever-reliable, gruff Tommy Lee Jones. An amazing movie, harkening back to the "Blood Simple" days of the director(s). Unexpected, non-Hollywood ending (no spoiler, here)--perfect. Like a Tobias Wolff story, even though it's from the Cormac McCarthy book.

The rain is pouring down like a monsoon here; the dip at the bottom of our drive was a small lake this morning. There are parts of our property that are like sponges anyway. Right now they are sodden and mucky and completely alluring for young boys wearing Crocs, who must plant their little feet with extra force as they walk, then complain loudly and incessantly of cold, wet feet and muddy socks. Too bad, so sad is what this compassionate father says. Just don't get mud on the floor of the car.