Packing yarn

Well. I had a blog post all planned yesterday: I often tell people in colder climates that I miss snow, to please throw a snowball for sheer glee for me if they would. Granted, it’s easy to miss the stuff when you don’t have to shovel it, I know–I was having to toss shovelfulls higher than the top of the garage just before we moved away from Merrimack.

What prompted all that is that I checked the weather forecast a few days ago: snow showers coming in Provo.  SNOW? *NOW*?

So I was wondering how on earth I was going to… I mean, my shoes are of the open-heel Birkenstock clog type good for Californian weather, definitely.  Can you just picture it? With each step, the snow would go flip, flip up the backs of my legs. I’d be throwing my own little snowballs. At me.

I checked again last night, though, and the forecast had changed. If it does anything, now, they say, it’ll  rain.  Well. That’s better, but it killed my anticipated blog post.  Heh. And then Phyll and Lee showed up to surprise Richard for his late-birthday and I quit worrying about it.

Five years ago, our Sam graduated from college and I bought plane tickets to go: nontransferrable, nonrefundable, yadda yadda. Two days before the flight, I started to have a Crohn’s flare. Oy vey. I hoped it would let up. It did not.

So I called Southwest Airlines and explained my situation.  They were wonderful and let me transfer my ticket into Richard’s name in spite of the restrictions, and he went instead of me on that trip.

We have two kids graduating this weekend.  My colon is gone, so it can’t even think of throwing any Crohn’s at me; it’s my turn. Tie a snip of thick bright yarn on my suitcase to help mark it as mine at baggage claim–I get to go.

And if it does snow, I will scoop some up and throw my own real snowball, and it’ll be gleeful. After these last few months?  Oh you betcha.

(Ed. to add: happy Earth Day to all.)