We’re snowed in out west! OK not really, but there is a dusting on the ground, and it is inhumanly cold. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this, but just to reiterate, we moved too high. I don’t even remember where we’re at; 2,000’+ I believe. All I remember is the listing advertised it as “below the snow line.” Another lie, tsk. Could be worse I suppose, but at the same time I am absolutely sure it could be better. Since our last move, I’ve come to know we are now considered “West Slope” dwellers, whereas our last house was “Valley.” Lessoned learned, too late I guess.
Not much to do last weekend, too dang cold to go outside. I did finally get the top put on the Jeep, so at least we have the option of travel should it be needed. Case in point, we took it up to Bones Friday for our regularly scheduled “end of week” celebration. Didn’t stay too long, but it was nice to get out of the house. After that we scurried back home and Donette made a tasty cheese tray, which we snacked on while watching “Bullet Train.” Seemed like a reasonably exciting move, but I fell asleep half way though.
Saturday I again hopped in the Jeep and headed west to the local butcher shop. They had a shipment of A5 Wagyu beef in, and I had my eye on a bit for our upcoming New Years Eve celebration. What ensued would be the reference to the “stay in school” title. Man, I don’t know if it was the exorbitant price or what, but I got a bit rattled. I told the girl I wanted “8 oz.” After a brief discussion on when we were eating it, how many people was it for, blah blah, she picked out a piece and threw it on the scale, which read “.5 lb.” She seemed pretty pleased, while I said, “I think I need a little more.” Well, she says, you have to be careful, it is very rich, 8 oz is about right for 4 people. Yep, right, I need some more. (Did she not hear me right, and why is she giving me that funny look?) Somebody else asked her something, and I jumped on the chance to ask another girl if she could put another piece on the scale. She obliged, and it says “.8 lb.” Perfect, thank you! Grabbed a few pork chops for good measure, and drove home in my blissful ignorance. It was a few days later when it finally struck me that, due to the idiosyncrasies of the stupid imperial measurement system, .5 lbs is, in fact, 8 oz. I inadvertently ended up with just over 13 ounces. I am an advocate for the metric system myself, I like the round numbers. Next time maybe I’ll order .2 kg, or maybe 200 grams, etc, and see what they say. (I would likely be asked to leave and come back when I could talk proper.) For evening entertainment, we put on Bullet Train again. I fell asleep again.
Sunday we got up to the beautiful snow blanketing our yard, and still coming down hard. Blech. Double-blech. It was deep enough that I had to get out and shovel a path for the pups, which Quinn seemed appreciative of. (Nacho, not so much. She ain’t getting off the porch, path or no.) After that it was an afternoon of football and the aforementioned pork chops. Pretty much a standard Sunday, so the snow didn’t affect us too much. Still a little bit out there too, but it’s melting, if not quite fast enough.
