Sunday, December 14, 2008

Winter Doldrums

There is nothing I hate more than cold weather. If I didn't enjoy my family or if my favorite seasons weren't Spring and Fall (respectively) I would move to a warmer climate where I could always have my windows open and spend every minute of my life outside. Maybe I'd live in a yurt.
Ha! I have a hard time sleeping when camping so a yurt would most likely be out of the question especially since there wouldn't be a place for all my books or my computer and since Boy has been terrified (since age 5) that a legless boy scout will come after him if he camps, a yurt would be down right impossible.
To end the monotony of another day indoors (there aren't many activities in my town), Girl and I decided to make homemade play dough. I pulled out the container of nearly a billion cookie cutters that I received for Christmas one year and Girl and I sat down to some fun. Boy spurned the activity until he learned that I wasn't going to let him use my cookie cutters on his Silly Putty.
We ended up having so much fun that even Mr. Hobbitfeet pulled himself away from Fantasy Football to join us. Boy kept making people with too large heads that he called dough babies. None of them could stand with out help and their bodies almost always collapsed under the weight of their massive noggins but he never gave up.
Girl spent all of her time taking things other people had made and then "remade them" which basically involved smashing everything until it looked like a pancake version of whatever it was supposed to be.
In the end we called it a day because Girl wouldn't stop eating the dough even though it was so salty and Boy started making dough balls (that I'm sure were about to be thrown) but we killed a good two hours which got us to lunch which got us t nap time which got us to the open at 1 p.m. library. Freezing cold Sundays are all about making it through until Monday.
As Douglas Adams says in Life, the Universe and Everything:

In the end, it was the Sunday afternoons he couldn't cope with, and that terrible listlessness which starts to set in at about 2:55, when you know that you've had all the baths you can usefully have that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph in the papers you will never actually read it, or use the revolutionary new pruning technique it describes, and that as you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o'clock, and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul.

Ans so we played with home made play dough.

1 comment:

~sWaMp~WiTcH~ said...

Oh, there's nutin' like homemade play dough. The fragrance is sublime and kneading it between one's fingers is so therapeutic.
What a wonderful past 4:00 in the morning.