Focus

When Don doles out the kids' vitamins each morning he grabs and holds their attention. They must wait until Don, by name, tells each it's "okay" to receive the plump, yummy pills. Then they're allowed, one-by-one, to gently take the treat from his hand.

Nothing distracts them. Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge focus exclusively on the hand holding their treasures. They know the object of their focus is something good. So they wait, undeterred.

Their ease in focusing on the good in store illustrates the reason behind my recent distractability when writing. The outcome (a published book and payment for it) no longer holds the same value it once did (to my discredit). Writing is my job now; it's no longer a passion (at least the kind of writing I do for income). After twenty-five books, I'm not surprised.

The rewards of seeing my name on a book jacket and adding funds to my bank account aren't as enticing as they used to be. And I think that may be why I'm so distracted. Cost (in time and effort) is beginning to outweigh benefit. So I'm no longer as motivated; my focus wanes.

Professionals, however, do the job (and do it well) no matter how motivated (or unmotivated) they may be. It's a matter of integrity. And I'm a professional, like it or not.

So I'll finish the book and finish it well. I'll maintain focus, even if the only reward is the satisfaction of knowing I finished the job and honored my contract. If once-a-day vitamins are enough to keep the kids' focus, then soul-satisfaction should certainly be enough for me.

So now I'm back to it. I won't post again until the manuscript is done. ;o)

'Til next time (which I hope is soon),

Joan

Ridge's Way

For all his chest-thumping bravado, Ridge is really just a big baby. :o)

This is his typical posture when we pet him: on his back, legs splayed, usually kicking his hind feet with excitement and vocalizing his pleasure with moans, groans and sighing.

He even hangs out on the recliner this way, though he doesn't often sleep this way.

Note: I hadn't even pet Ridge yet when I took this picture; I'd just approached him with the camera. Sweet, silly boy.

Gee, I wonder if he's comfortable?

'Til next time,
Joan (who's finally in the home stretch on this book manuscript! Now, it's back to work for me.) 

I'd Rather Play

Baxter: "Come on, Mom, Can't we go out and play? See, see...I even got this bright yellow-green thingy we can find in the snow. Come on, Mom, please? Pretty please?"

Me: "No, Bud, sorry. I still have this book manuscript to get out. No playtime for me. At least not yet."

Baxter: "But, Elsie wants to play, too. Can't you toss the ring with us for just a little while."

Me (reluctantly): "I really can't, Boos. I need to work."


A few hours later...


Baxter: "Huh? What? You mean you still haven't finished that book yet?"

Me: "Nope" (big sigh, pat Boos on the head). "This one's painfully slow. I just can't seem to wrap my head around it."

Baxter: "Well (yawn, stretch), wake me up where you're done. In the meantime, I think I'll nap here a while."

Me (mumbling): "I wish I could join you, Bud. You don't know how much I wish I could."

Now it's back to work for me (and snoozing for the kids). Oh, to have the life of a dog!

'Til next time (big sigh),
Joan 

My Helpers

Okay. I really am trying to get this book done. My editor graciously gave me a bit more time, and I'm working hard to finish.

But the "kids" keep offering to help.

When I work on my laptop in the family room (in the same room with them to give them attention while I work), all three nuzzle my keyboard and monitor. I finally gave up on the laptop (too easy for the kids to create problems on) and started using my AlphaSmart instead (the little green word processor I'm typing on in the pictures).



Baxter is the easiest, of course; I can actually write on top of him, and he doesn't mind.





But then Ridge gets jealous and climbs on top of Baxter to wedge himself between Baxter and me. He seems to think I need an attention break (how loving of him):




This is Ridge sitting on Baxter nuzzling me. :o)






Then Ridge settles down between us, making it too crowded to work (notice the Westminster Dog Show on the TV behind Baxter).


Elsie, on the other hand, thinks I need help keying. She paws the keyboard (the primary reason I switched to the AlphaSmart from my laptop--she can't damage that as easily). Or she rests her head on my arms (ever try to key on a keyboard with a Lab head on your forearms?)

So today I gave up hanging with the canine kids and I'm back in my office on my desktop while the kids hang out in the family room. I try to keep an ear out for them, and check on them regularly, but every now and then I miss something...like Don's stuffed polar bear from Valentine's Day.

Ridge wanted to protect us from big, bad, ferocious, four-legged arctic predators, especially those threatening plush kind. What a helper he is!

Wow. With this much help I should be able to get all kinds of things done!

'Til next time,
Joan

Caught!

There's our Ridge, caught in the act. This is the dog who absolute hates anything stuffed. I should rephrase that: he doesn't hate stuffed things; he loves to shred stuffed things, almost compulsively.

But his compulsion targets only stuffed animals: never stuffed chairs or pillows or dog beds or cushions. He's our never-chew-on-anything-but-what's-in-the-toy-bin guy. We can trust him to behave. And he does.

Except when a stuffed animal is near. This one he scarfed off the kitchen table (a Valentine's gift for hubby). Oh well.

Chalk up another one to canine neuroses. :o)

'Til next time,
Joan 

Snow!

We have snow!!!!


















Lots of snow. :o)



















And Labs love snow. Especially our Blizzard Boy Baxter.
















Baxter and Elsie romp...









while Ridge wrassles a "greenie" bone in the warmth and comfort of the family room.



Ridge can take or leave snow. He'd rather hang inside with us.











Elsie enjoys it (well, an adventure is an adventure, of course, and Elsie is always up for an adventure). But she comes in now and then to warm up and dry in front of the fire.









Baxter relishes snow. And he'd stay out in it all day if we let him.






That's my boy!

More to come...


'Til next time,
Joan

Friend Time

Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge have friends. Real canine friends. Did you know that?

Take Gracie for example. Gracie is my twin sister's dog (yes, I have an identical twin). Gracie and her family live only fifteen minutes from our house (here, outside of Philadelphia, we measure distances in driving minutes --it's a traffic thing), and we see them often.

Gracie is a Golden Retriever, not a Lab, but she's still retriever. :o) And a beautiful one at that.

Take a look (photos compliments of my sister):

























You can probably tell from these pictures that Gracie and Elsie have similar personalities: low-key, snuggly, and ever-playful. Gracie is more submissive, though--lower on the canine heirarchy than Elsie. She rolls often. :o) It's funny how dogs identify themselves that way.

Gracie lived with us for a couple of weeks while her Mom and Dad were in Africa on a short-term mission trip, and ever since she seems to know where she fits with our crew. And she loves us all. Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge love her, too.

Gracie and Elsie, in particular, are buds. They've had "play dates" since they were pups. They're about the same age (Gracie is older by a few months), they're both female, and they get along famously. They love being together.

So we arrange for them to play together regularly, either at my sister's house or mine. We both have fenced yards, so the "kids" can play and run and race and tease and wrassle at will.

Dogs need buds to romp with (that's why we've always had at least two dogs).

People do, too. I'm glad for my "buds." And just as I make time for our canine kids to play with their friends, I'm learning make time for my friends, too. "Friend time" has become a priority.

How easily we forget how much we need each other. Gracie and Elsie remind me of my need, and I'm learning to listen to their reminder.

That's a good thing--a lesson I wish I'd learned sooner.

But as George Elliot once said, "It's never too late to become who you might have been."

'Til next time,
Joan

Elsie nuzzling Don. :o) 

The Lap Dog 

The Little Snuggler

Elsie is our snuggler. No question about it.

That's not to say that Baxter and Ridge don't like to snuggle; they do. But Elsie thrives on nestling and touching and nuzzling her little head into our shoulders and necks.

At 80 pounds, she's technically not a lap dog. But I won't tell her if you won't. ;o)

I love that she's so affectionate. No matter what we're doing, she seems to need to touch us (lean against us, paw us, plop her butt on our feet). But mostly, she likes to nap on our laps.

There's nothing quite like holding a sleeping dog. It's almost as soothing as rocking a sleeping baby (well, not quite, but close). Studies show that simply petting an animal lowers blood pressure. No wonder I feel so relaxed when Elsie snoozes in my arms!

Eight months ago my doctor told me I needed to reduce my stress. I guess that means I have a medical excuse to snuggle with the Elsie girl. Especially when I feel stressed.

As if I needed one!

Uh oh. Is that stress I sense creeping up on me? Yup. I can feel it. And I think Elsie just might need a snuggle fix (it's been a few hours).

I guess that means work can wait and that it's time to lower my blood pressure and help Elsie feel secure. :o)

'Til next time,
Joan

Bringing Out the Best

Ohboyohboyohboyohboyohboyohboyohboy! We get to go for a walk with Dad! Ohboyohboyohboyohboyohboy!

Yup. That's Ridge, Elsie, and Baxter (L to R) coming back from their usual Saturday morning jaunt along the dirt roads around our house.

Ridge is a dream on lead. Baxter is a dream off lead. Elsie is still too untrained to be trusted either way. :o)

But they do love their romps with Dad.

And yes, this photo is recent; just a week or two old. Fifty- and sixty-degree weather here made January feel more like April.

But the canine kids loved it, especially since Mom (aka, me) has been trapped behind the computer trying to meet a book deadline (makes for less playtime for them).

And for the first time in 24 books (this is number 25 for me), I just couldn't do it. Even forcing myself to sit in front of the computer didn't make a difference. I couldn't meet the deadline.

For whatever reason, my writing well has been dry. Maybe it's because I've written so much on this book's topic already, and I've run out of creative ways to approach it. Maybe it's the recently overcast skies and the energy slump they bring (I'd die in Seattle). Maybe it's just that I've written 24 books in the last seven years, and I'm burnt out. Or maybe it's that I've been fighting a sinus infection, had a lump-in-my-breast scare (all is fine), and faced extra work hours and pressures for my day job--all in the last three weeks.

I haven't exercised in a week either (that makes a difference, too). But I've been good on the food plain: eating all the right things and avoiding the wrong ones.

Still, I've been tired.

And my head just wouldn't engage this book's topic. I tried. I really did: I glued my butt to the chair and wrote anyway. But the words fell flat; they just weren't up to my normal writing standard.

So I called my Very-Gracious-Editor (VGE) yesterday and explained my dilemma. I had never bailed on a contract, but was a hair's breadth away from doing so. I was that discouraged.

And VGE, bless her heart, gave me more time. She even understood. She didn't scold or lecture or sigh or attempt to manipulate me into a corner. She met me in friendship and grace. And because I'd been faithful on so many other book projects with her, I'd "earned the right" to some flexibility on this one.

What a relief. I feel like I can write again. Her grace invigorated me; completing this book doesn't look so impossible after all.

What a difference a few kind words make! Especially to someone (like me) who felt like a screw-up and failure.

I should remember that lesson. Even with the canine kids. When they mess up, sure they need correction, but they also need our encouragement and affirmation. VGE's support and willingness to work with me--to offer grace-filled understanding--is allowing me to perform my best now.

Could it be that the same attitude would bring the best out of the others in our lives (canines included)? Even when they disappoint us?

I don't know. But it can't hurt to try.

I know I'm better for it anyway.

'Til next time,
Joan

Submission and Trust

Truth be told, I'm not keen on the term "submission." Here's Merriam-Webster's definition (parts 2 and 3):

Submission: :
2: the condition of being submissive , humble, or compliant
3: an act of submitting to the authority or control of another (Merriam-Webster on-line).

We Americans (ruggedly-individual-pull-ourselves-up-by-our-bootstraps-"but-we-have-our-rights" Americans) resist anything to do with humility, compliance, or yielding control.

Labs, thankfully, aren't like Americans in this regard. They're so eager to please, they willingly (well, maybe not-always-so-willingly) submit to us.


I'm glad they're so inclined. Especially when I think of the damage lack of submission (i.e., lack of humility or refusing to yield our "rights" for the sake of another) can bring in the human world: war; divorce; child-abuse; slavery; marital conflict; destructive relationships; etc.)

It's a me-first world today--one that's lost the ideals of sacrifice, service, duty, and honor. And it's my generation (the boomers) that have made it this way (let's own up here, boomer folks).

I wish we were more like Labs, who so willingly serve and do what we ask without complaint or a "what's in it for me" attitude. They serve us, and do so with great joy.

Why? Why are they so willing to abandon themselves for our sake?

Well, partly, of course, it's their nature to do so; they are Labs after all. And partly because then are not human (filled with self-centered ego).

But I think it may also have something to do with trust (isn't it interesting that our generation is the one that came up with "you can't trust anyone over 30").

Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge trust us. They know we have their good in mind. They intuitively understand that what we do is for their best.

Just two weeks ago Don accidentally cut Baxter's toenail too short (the last nail on the last of the three to be trimmed), and it bled. And bled. And bled. We had Baxter lie down; elevated his leg; put pressure on the bleed; applied clotting stuff to the nail tip; and yet we still ended up with half-a-roll of paper towels sopped in crimson blood stains.

Yet for all our flurry of activity, and for all Baxter's discomfort, he yielded. He stayed still, didn't fight us, and allowed us to do what needed to be done.

Imagine the chaos (and mess) if he hadn't.

But he could only do so because he trusted (and trusts) us.

Don and I have a marriage based on mutual submission. We don't fight for who's top dog; we don't squash each other to get our ways; we voluntarily and mutually seek the other's best. Do we sometimes disagree? Sure. But we work it through, trying to maintain humilty and with an eye to the others' need (not just our own).

And after 24 years, we're still best friends; we love each other deeply; we like each other; we appreciate each other; we look out for each other; and we trust each other without reservation.

Ah...there's that trust word again.

Trust is huge. Without trust, we can't have healthy relationships: in our families, with our friends, in the workplace, and even with our canines.

I've been asking myself this question lately: Am I trustworthy? Can I do more? What can I do to foster even deeper trust?

And am I willing to submit? Am I willing to yield my needs (e.g.: to get work done) for the sake of another's (e.g.: the dogs' need to get exercise and attention).

I'm in process. As we all are. But at least I'm asking the questions.

Are you?

'Til next time,
Joan

Of Sleep and Dreams

It's amazing to me how angelic our kids look when they're sleeping (canine and human, of course). It's especially true of our Labs. :o)

No impish grins.
No mischievous gleams in their eyes.
No playful yips for attention.
No pawing or jumping or teasing or nudging.


Just peace-filled slumber. Or fun-filled dreams of chasing birds, romping in the fields, and splashing in ice-cold streams.



For them, the transition from sleep to waking isn't sudden or rude. They yawn and stretch and sigh themselves awake. Then they're ready for the world. Real life, for a Lab, is every bit as fun as their dreams.

I've never known a Lab to have a nightmare (fears, yes--like Ridge with thunder; nightmares, no).

We humans, however, no matter how peaceful we look while sleeping, have nightmares. At least this one does. And sometimes our wakings terrify us.

I've had more bad dreams in recent months than in the last several years combined. Yet, life is good just now: not as difficult or as stressful as it has been; no crises; no crushing disappointments; and less stress. I'm exercising; I'm taking care of myself; I'm eating right; and all is well (with my soul and otherwise, and with that of my family members and friends).

It doesn't make sense. Nightmares now, when life is smooth and I have little to fear?

Yes, I've lived through seasons when my waking world felt far worse and more frightening than slumber land, and during those times I preferred to keep dreaming than to wake up and face the day (though face the day I did).

But life holds a gentle, quieter season for me right now. So why the bad dreams? Why now? Weird.

I'd love know what dreams really are. What's their purpose? Where do they come from? What do they reveal? And if answers to those questions exist, then how do those answers apply to our canine companions?

Mystery. Life is full of mystery. That's the wonder of living, I guess.

But I sure would like to know about dreams. And if I can't know, then at least I wish I'd quit having these dreams about death and unfaithfulness and sickness and disease and separation and loneliness and failure (you name it; I've envisioned it a dream lately).

I'd much rather join Baxter and Elsie and Ridge in their outdoor-adventure dreams, even if my legs twitched or I barked and drooled in my sleep. :o)

In any case, if I slept like my canine kids, I'd probably sleep better. Maybe I'll see if they'll tell me their secret.

I suppose I can ask, but I doubt they'll tell. ;o)

'Til next time,
Joan

So What Happened to Winter?

The canine kids are depressed. Well, this kid-at-heart is, too. ;o)

Here it is, January, and we're averaging 20 degrees above normal. Today it's supposed to hit 60 degrees (F). Gag.

We reeeeeeeeeeeeally like snow at our house. We loved having a white December, right up until two days before Christmas when it got warm and downpoured and washed most of the snow away.






Baxter and Ridge (and Elsie) raced in the snow.








They sniffed and sniffed and sniffed the snow.






The played hide-n-seek and let's-pounce-on-each-other. :o)









And sometimes they just sat and enjoyed the quiet.




Yes, it gets very quiet here after a good snow. Maybe that's why I like it so much.

We want our winter back.

Harumph!

You watch: I bet we get a snow-dumping noreaster here in late March, just about the time when we're ready for spring.

Go figure. But at least our seasons change, and it gives us something to look forward to (yes, I'm looking forward to that next big storm). In light of yesterday's post, I suspose the fact that we have seasons at all is something to savor. Even if they do seem to forget which season they are.

'Til next time,
Joan (who really dislikes these mid-winter warmups!)

Learning to Savor

Ah, for a Lab, there's nothing like a good bone!

I had a busy work day ahead of me today, and I didn't want to crate Elsie and Ridge, so I pulled out some solid, flavored knuckle bones to keep them happily occupied.

And the three of them went to town on their bones.

No one needs to teach them to savor this occasional (at our house) treat: they sniff it; they lick it; they prod it; the scrape their teeth on it; they hold it in their paws; they protect it; they enjoy it until their jaws tire; and even then, after a rest, they return to savor it some more.

Why don't we savor good things, even little things, more? That is, we humans. Labs have no trouble taking time to enjoy life's graces.

We're blessed with sooooooooo much, and not just things; moments, too. Yet we blur right by them or through them with barely a notice.

When I break out the bones for Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge, it's almost as though they've never been offered anything quite so delightful before. It doesn't matter if it's the 10th or 100th bone they've received. Each is fresh and exciting and fun and thoroughly gratifying.

They know how to savor. And we can learn from them.

Here's a short list of what I'm learning to savor, and as I do, my heart is becoming more full because of my savoring:

• my health (I can breath, see, hear, walk, smell, eat, think clearly, and a thousand other things -- my heart works, my live works, my lungs work, my brain works, my kidneys work). How quickly our health can change!
• my marriage (not perfect, but after 24 years my husband is still my best friend; I'm learning to treasure, appreciate, and enjoy him).
• my environment (sounds--stopping, closing my eyes, and just listening; sights--e.g.:noticing birds in the backyard and at the feeders; stopping and taking a moment to watch them; weather--enjoying the seasons and changes as they come).
• my kids (my human ones). I'm stepping back to notice all I love about them; they're personalities, passions, strengths, quirks--just who God made them to be.
• my work (being grateful that I have work; that I work in a profession I enjoy; that I work remotely from home most days; that I enjoy my co-workers; and that I'm using my strengths and gifts to help people).
• life itself (that God has given me this day, another day to live--how quickly and suddenly so many die without ever appreciating the lives they had).
• my canine kids :o) (their silliness, their eagerness, their faithfulness; all they teach me; the love they offer; their calming influence; the fact that we can afford to have them)
• our circumstances (not perfect, but we have a roof over our heads, food to eat, clothes to wear, cars to drive, and money to pay the bills most months)

Savoring doesn't mean life is perfect: We still have tough things with which to deal and stressors that weigh on our hearts. But savoring means appreciating what's good.

And we all have something good to savor, if only we'll take a moment, open our eyes, and notice.

Just like Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge do, virtually every moment of every day.

'Til next time,

Joan

Wow, It's Been Almost a Month!

We've finally returned!

But I can't believe it's been nearly a month since I blogged. It's amazing how much routine influences my productivity! And routine goes to pot during the holidays, at least at our house.

But, routine has returned; so here's to my blogging regularly again!

To get started, I thought I'd offer a recap of the last month's happenings categorized in opposing camps: Good Things (GT) and related Not So Good Things (NSGT). It's a smattering of topics in no particular order. Maybe you'll find some encouragement in seeing that my life is every bit as nuts as the next guy's. Enjoy!

GT: All three dogs love the new doggie beds we bought for them.
NSGT: We only bought two doggie beds, and we have three dogs. :( I guess there's always the couch or a human lap for whoever is left out. :)

GT: I'm really working 30 hours per week now (my employer has enough work for me to fill that many hours for me working remotely now). :)
NSGT: I have less time to blog and play with the "kids." :(

GT: I'm under freelance book contract again (in addition to my day job). :)
NSGT: I have fewer evenings available to snuggle with the Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge. They miss their "Mom" snuggle time. :( And I miss them. But they get lots of "Dad" time. :o)

GT: Ridge loves to snuggle now.
NSGT: My lap's not big enough for three Labs at one time (that would amount to 270 pounds of Lab).

GT: My lap's getting smaller. :o)
NSGT: My clothes are too big, but I'm not ready to buy a bunch of new ones.

GT: The human kids all made it home safely for the holidays. :)
NSGT: Now they're back at their respective colleges (2) and busy routines (all three). It's awfully quiet around here (humans adults and canine kids find it a bit too quiet, sometimes).

GT: I got my Christmas cards/letter out on time.
NSGT: It's been seven years since I sent Christmas cards/letters. :(

GT: I received good news at my annual physical last week. My triglycerides are down 300 points since last tested six months ago (Went from 480+ to 174).
NSGT: I hate physicals. :(

GT: I'm controlling my prediabetes well with just diet and exercise.
NSGT: I'm still not fond of exercise.

GT: Elsie and Baxter aren't chewing up forbidden things (shoes and such) anymore.
NSGT(?): Elsie and Baxter are no longer puppies. The "kids" are growing up.

GT: Elsie still loves to be next to us wherever we are, even when we're working.
NSGT: It's too easy to pay attention to her, and not to the things that have to get done.

GT: We made it through Elsie's last heat cycle just fine (though Ridge went bonkers again).
NSGT(?): Elsie still has at least one (maybe two) heat cycles to get through before she and Ridge can mate.

GT: I've been invited to join a teaching team to teach at a women's conference in Zambia (in May). My husband and I taught in Kenya a few years ago; so I'm excited to go back to Africa.
NSGT: I have to be gone two weeks (which means doggies will be crated all day for those two weeks). Anybody have any ideas how to handle this?

GT: I didn't gain any weight over the holidays; in fact, I lost a couple pounds. :o)
NSGT: I still have about 30 lbs. to go.

GT: It's been a very mild January here in PA (no snow, temps in the 40s and 50s, only rain).
NSGT: I hate mild Januaries. I love the cold and snow (as do Baxter and Elsie).

GT: I've completely eliminated white flour and sugar from the foods I eat.
NSGT: I had to give up some really yummy foods to do so.

GT: I'm blogging again. :o)
NSGT: It's been weeks since my last entry.


I suppose that's enough for now. Happy New Year, all! It's good to be back!

'Til next time,
Joan

Our Blizzard Boy (s)

Baxter is our Blizzard Puppy. We got him just a couple weeks before Christmas in 2003.

I drove nearly 7 hours (one way) just ahead of a predicted December noreaster to get Baxter from his breeder a few days shy of his 7-week-old release date. Because Baxter was healthy and big for his age, and because the breeder's vet had cleared him, and because the breeder knew we were in for quite a storm, they let me pick him up early.

We arrived home just as the blizzard started.


And a blizzard it was.


Dear hubby was away on a business trip in sunny Puerto Rico that week. ;o) Just like he's away in sunny California this week while our first "big snow" (for PA) blew in. We had about 8" of snow fall overnight. Hubby always seems to be away for events like blizzards and Elsie heat cycles. Hmmmmmm....

Anyway, Baxter is still our Blizzard Boy (the photos below were taken at 7:30 a.m. this morning during the tail end of the storm).

























He romps like a spring lamb in the snow.








And he loves playing with Elsie and Ridge, plowing through the white stuff no matter how deep.








Of course, he is the ripe old age of two now. So he does like to come in from the snow and warm himself by the fire.

Sweet, silly boy.

What's even sweeter is how he's rubbed off on our sweet silly son (the human kind).

Daniel (now 21) called this morning at 7:10 a.m. from college just to let me know he was as "giddy as a schoolboy" because of the snow. PBU had cancelled all classes because of the storm so, instead of sleeping in like most college kids, Dan had been out taking pictures since 6:30 a.m.

:o) Gotta love him.

Remember, this is my serious-minded, gentle, loving, mature-for-his-age son who also happens to have mild cerebral palsy (right-side involved) and a siezure disorder. He has almost no use of his right hand and limited use of his entire right side. Navigating in snow isn't easy for him. Life hasn't been easy for him (hence his maturity and serious-mindedness).

Yet he loves the snow.

But Daniel and Baxter are buds.











And Baxter has rubbed off on him.

That's our Blizzard Boy for ya. I suppose I have two Blizzard Boys now. Go figure.

'Til next time, and Happy Snow!
Joan