Year of the Dragon

Because no self-respecting holiday can go by without celebratory food--despite said holiday landing on a Monday after a weekend of a sick mama--we had noodles for Chinese New Year. 

Ok, so it wasn't dumplings and plum sauce (as per the original plan), but a soba noodle will do in a new year's pinch. 

And noodles, it is said, represent Longevity. As in, "Look how long I can slurp this noodle!" and "Look how long my sister laughs at my attempts to use these chopsticks!" and "How long before mama says 'It's going to be the year of the rat before you finish your dinner; please just EAT!'" 

 Happy Year of the Dragon! Jezebel is rather concerned about this one, pretty certain that dragons are real and scary and "going to bite my leg!" But she thinks it's hiLARious that Daddy was born in the Year of the Monkey, so we just focus on that.

In other news, we got an unusual snow "storm" here on the valley floor last week-- and although we were disappointed that it didn't amount to much (not even a No School Day! Drat!), we were grateful that we didn't see the crazy weather patterns of the rest of the state. Lots of rain, but no overflowing rivers and no freezing rain.

Just enough snow to justify a dog costume and romp.  

 But nowhere near enough to justify this getup. For real, Mom? Aren't you from Wisconsin? This doesn't even qualify as "It snowed" in Wisconsin and I can neither breathe nor see. Or use my thumbs. What in god's good creation is this thing on my hand? 

 I, Winona, was much more enthused by it all. For starters, I could move in my clothing. Also, I make a good snowball... which was fun for the whole 38 minutes we had snow on the ground. 

 Me? I'm happier in the more tropical environs (of, er, say, the Y pool deck). That's right. I'm learning to SWIM! And it's awe.some. I kick and flail and have. no. fear.

Tonight, at bed time I (Julie) said, "I'm proud of you for learning to swim, Jezzie." To which she replied, "I'm proud of you for learning to drive, Mama." Hey, thanks!