I Can't Bear To Look

I accidentally watched Lindsey Jacobellis in her semifinal snowboard cross run. That racing stuff is just too intense for me. Short track makes me just wild and snowboard cross is almost as bad. Biathlon is the Boy's game; he thinks racing through the woods on cross country skis then shooting at something is a sport that makes sense. As for me, I'm all about curling.

The thrill of victory doesn't seem to have the same power as the agony of defeat, so now I'm trying to censor the Olympic events I see. Which leads us to flowers.

One person's tragedy is another's cheap bouquet of roses.



Due to our recent above-average snowfall (I do love understatement -- today is the first time I've seen a patch of bare shingles on my roof since February 4), my favorite store got their truckload of Valentine's Day roses at 7:00 PM on Valentine's Day. They closed at 9. That meant that on Tuesday, they still had lots of roses. Cheap. I don't usually splurge on flowers but couldn't resist this bouquet of yellow ones. I had to put it in my bathroom. Kitty thinks they're for snacking and I'm not sure what the greens are.

It turns out my bathroom is an excellent place for a dozen roses. I see them first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

P.S. Don't fall asleep with the TV on when Kramer vs. Kramer is scheduled for the wee hours. You will wake up to Billy's crying as he gets stitches. It is not restful. Trust me. I know.