February 23rd

I'm glad today is a Wednesday. It's easy to allow it to swallow you up. No one bats an eye at it or wants to schedule something over it. It's unobtrusive and mild and sinks down deep into the center of the week like the middle of an air mattress. For that I am grateful. Cause I plan to sleep. All day.

And probably eat a lot of cookies.

But mostly sleep.

the burg

Greg and I recently moved to Warrensburg, Missouri - a place entirely different from anywhere we've ever lived before. We bought a house tucked away from civilization, but not too far out of arms reach.

It's a college town, so the corporate creature comforts can still be found in Wal-Mart, Lowes, Papa Johns and Radio Shack (no Starbucks yet), but there are still plenty of home-grown businesses I look forward to exploring, particularly the famous but controversial Perry Fosters.

It's cold here. That feels strange to say considering we just came from Nebraska, but I'm starting to suspect that the semi-warm weather Missourians enjoy once or twice each week of the winter is nothing more than a sick psychological trick. 23 inches of snow melting to 5 inches in just a couple of days and then freezing into a block of ice the next is enough to make even the most sane among us go bananas. But what I hate most about the winter is how it seems to creep into my bones and freeze me from the inside out. Not blankets, furry pets, heating pads or hot showers can melt it away. It's something only the sun can rid me of. I find myself wandering into our pictures from Hawaii last winter, longing for a sunburn.