The Poop on the Poop.

L: (gazing lovingly at her Grams while sitting on the potty) Gwams, sometimes I like to call my poop "Gwams."

P.

Frozen Turkeys.

On Tuesday afternoon, we heard that people had begun to queue for the Black Friday sale at Best Buy. Of course we remember the same silliness in Southern California.

But in Boise on Tuesday the high was 21, with a low of -1, Wednesday, high 16, low 0, Thursday high 25, low 12.

On the other hand, $200 off that big flatscreen (limited quantity at this price)!!!

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A Frozen Turkey Dinner.

We were thankful that we were warm, because it was frozen outside.

John took O. and L. sledding in the backyard with his new ATV.

The little monkey swabs the bird.

Turkey porn.

John isn't a turkey fan, so we also did a curry-crusted prime rib on the grill.
We started with a round of mai tais, because nothing complements
sub-freezing weather like a tangy tropical drink (no little umbrellas, unfortunately). Emily's dad and
Michael and his mom joined us in gobbling John's evil, heart-stopping
scalloped potatoes, O.'s pecan cornbread stuffing and cranberry salsa,
as well as sausage bread, rolls, pies, and other devil-inspired richness.

We were thankful that no one had a heart attack or quoted Rush Limbaugh.

And we hope that you all have at least as much to be thankful for as we do.

P.

Eyes on the Prize.

L: Mommy, today I had an eye in my poop.
E: Really. Whose eye?
L: Yours.

P.

Sliding in a Winter Wonderland.

So on Saturday, we had our first snow. It didn't really stick, but it was exciting that it had finally arrived. Over the next two days, however, it snowed more and more and the temperature kept dropping, to the point that, by Monday morning we woke to 25 degrees and a layer of three to four inches of snow and ice.

Very pretty in a bleak sort of way.

But of course we aren't here just to look at the snow, we have to get out and do stuff in it. Like drive. So with great trepidation, we ventured forth on the icy roads. It was slippery. Oh, it was slippery. And it got slipperier as the temperature continued to fall.

On Tuesday morning it was 14 degrees, but at least it was sunny, so no more snow was falling.

But of course what had fallen wasn't melting. The high got up to
about 21. The roads were treacherous, and the parking lots
were worse, with practically invisible patches of perfectly slick ice.
We narrowly avoided disaster on several occasions.

Today, the high remained about 21, but it was sunny and surprisingly warm

as long as you avoided the shade and the wind wasn't blowing. Of course, I was
wearing my new flannel-lined jeans, so my perception may be skewed.
In any case, we are learning to drive in these conditions (slow, slow, slow)
and loving the beauty of the season.

P.

Again With The Tummy.

L: Mommy, I love you all the way to Syona's tummy.

At least there's no walrus involved.

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And So It Begins.

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The Search for Snow.

Repeatedly, the weather people have predicted snow, and just as repeatedly said snow has failed to fall. So on Sunday, we went looking for it. Braving the light rain and slippery roads we wound our way into the mountains north of Boise, following the Payette River toward McCall.

At first, the river banks and mountains were completely free of snow.

We climbed into the clouds. Still no snow, and the temp wasn't
much colder than it was when we left Boise.

Finally, about 60 miles from town, we hit the snow.
It wasn't much, but it was satisfying.

We stopped in Cascade for lunch, then headed home down the
rain-slick highway.

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You Know It's Fall When the Grass Turns Blue.

We've been told that this is an exceptionally long and lovely fall here. Usually by this time snow has fallen and the leaves have been frozen and blown off the trees. But here it is mid-November and we've yet to have any snow fall in town. The weather people keep predicting snow a couple days out, but so far they've been wrong.

In the meantime we are enjoying the fall colors, which are fading,
but only very slowly.

The parks are especially lovely.

Still vibrant with color.

Though some of the trees have lost all their leaves, and we're getting
our first glimpse of the bones of winter.

In the BSU stadium, the the grass has turned a particularly vivid
shade of blue, a sure sign that fall is fully upon us.

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The Return of the Walrus.

L: Mommy, I love you all the way up to the moon with a walrus and back from the moon in a car.

We're hoping the the walrus will remain on the moon where he can't burn anyone.

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Brrrrrr!

Now that we're through with daylight savings time, it's no longer pitch black when we get up at 7:00. The week before the switch, the sun was rising at 8:45, which is just wrong. Now, of course, it's 7:45, still wrong, but at least there are the beginnings of a glimmer of day in the sky when we rise.

It is cold, though. Yesterday it was 30 when we got up, with frost on the grass. We now have to start the car five minutes before we leave to go to the gym to get it to a bearable temperature and melt the hard crust of ice off the windshield. Luckily, the Lexus has heated seats, because the leather gets very cold overnight.

Okay, we're weather wimps. And I can't say we'd rather be back in the 90 degree, 90% humidity of Hanoi, either. But I do get a bit nostalgic for the 60-70 degree winters of Southern California, a nostalgia that I'm sure will grow stronger as the days here grow shorter and sharper. Every year, we have a few days in California when it gets this cold. Here, of course, the worst is yet to come. Our shorts and flip-flops are packed away until at least March, no January heat wave for us.

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