Snow-sun-crab death?-gyoza-granola-whew

We had such a fun time last night. What a treat to get dressed up and out and have a ball. And St. Jude's is such a great cause; during the opening video I was damn glad to have on waterproof eye makeup! My dress is the one I wore to my and T's rehearsal dinner nearly ten years back. I found it in Ol's closet yesterday while looking for an overcoat, tried it on and voila. I love closet shopping trips that yield terrific finds.

This morning we awoke to more snow, heavy snow and lots of it. I thanked school, with every fiber of my being, for just going with it and getting started on time. Winter, I'm over you. Naturally by 1p, the sun was shining and all the slush was melting away. Who can keep current as these days go by? No wonder a number of people I know are sick. Effing February.

Do y'all remember that morning last July, when I went to kiss J goodbye before I hurried out to catch my plane to BlogHer (click here for an enjoyable review)? I noticed an odd Darth-Vader-minus-his-helmet looking creature in the food bowl in the hermit crab tank (mmm, savory), told T he'd best check it out and then left. Turns out one crab had cannibalized the other and what I'd seen was just a head, a naked head amidst the food pellets. Anyway, since that aggressive behavior, Mr. Crab has not been given a new roommate. Too bad if he's been lonely...eating your tankmate is unacceptable.

I have grown increasingly ambivalent about the damn crab, not least because he is boring as sin. Lately though, he's been downright sociable, all creaky-crawly throughout his tank, hanging in his salt water pool, munching on old worm casings, changing locale on a regular basis. He has NEVER, in the past 18 months or so, changed shells despite the fact that empty ones are strewn about his tank AND he's been hanging out of his first home in a seriously egregious fashion. He's like a size 9 foot pretending to fit into a size 6 open-toed sandal: all overhang and silliness.

Then last night, T noticed that Crab had abandoned his shell altogether and was lurking in his cave completely in the buff. Is he finally going to move into a larger home? Is he dying? He's weird. Do hermit crabs hibernate?

I think he's dead. I can't bring myself to lift up the cave thing but he doesn't look so good, and really, I'm relieved. Let's call it a day on the dullest pet ever and then I'll have one less thing to tend.

In the meantime I made granola (it never gets less good, people) and also the filling for some gyoza which I'm about to wrap and steam. I love dumplings/pot stickers/shu mai/this delight with any moniker. I hope the boys like them too!

Memories in hair

T and I are going to a gala this evening. Doesn't that sound fabulously fancy and fun? Not least because it's a lowly Tuesday but also, we rarely attend such events. As it happens, we're the lucky guests of friends for the St. Jude's fete tonight, and I'm very excited: great cause, wonderful pals, cocktail dresses, a date with my hubs. None of that happens often enough so yee-haw! I decided to get my hair done and while sitting in the stylist's chair today, hair spray and bobby pins a'flying, I thought back to my wedding day and the copious amounts of pins and shellac that went into my matrimonial coif. I loved it; it was a sleek but not severe updo, hair pulled back and swept away from my face, twisted and turned into a beautiful bun just high enough to hold a small tiara and the clip of my veil. My lovely helmet did not budge that night- not through veil shifts and removal, tremendous amounts of dancing and a full outfit change just before T and I headed off to our hotel. Impressive.

Yet once at the hotel, I really wanted to let my hair loose and brush it out. Had I remembered to pack a brush? I had not, and by the time I hand-picked the hundreds of pins out and finger-combed the bun to freedom, I looked like Medusa and T was nearly asleep. As it turns out, I'd also forgotten eye makeup remover, and the aftermath of waterproof mascara, fake eyelashes and a basic bar of hand-soap really left me looking fairly rough. Good times, good memories.

Quick note of hilarity about today's style: midway through he asked, "How's this looking?" It was bordering on bouffant so I said, "Well, slightly high, actually. I feel like I'm from Dallas." Without missing a beat, M replied, "The higher the hair, the closer to God," before chuckling mischievously and cinching things tight. I about fell out.

More o' the wet stuff

See, what did I just say about the February tease? It comes every year, we relish in its warmth and then the curtain drops. Today = snow. Lots of it.

I got the kids to school, came home and made apple cider muffins (love them! LOVE!) and then Nut and I hit the couch. It's the only way to roll sometimes.