I have a new favorite phrase. It goes like this, "Today is Thursday, December 21, 2006. Auraria campus is closed due to inclement weather." Sweet! I feel like a kid again. There are real live jumbo butterflies in my stomach knowing that Santa is coming and it's snowing to beat the band outside. How excited am I? It's 4:30 in the morning and I am wide awake after listening to that glorious telephone recording telling me to stay home and not go to work. Woo hoo!

Here's some interesting snow/flooded basement trivia I thought you'd enjoy:

· It takes four bottles of water to brew a pot of coffee. The coffee tastes no different than if I'd used tap water, but it is still the greatest drink on earth. When left to my own devices, I am capable of drinking that entire pot. Maybe that's why I'm writing at this pre-dawn hour.

· As we have no water, we are using paper & plastic tableware. We have no forks; I took them all to work. Plastic spoons make terrible spreaders. I am too lazy to go find the plastic knives.

· It takes 2/3 of my floor cleaning bucket full of water from the bathtub we had the foresight to fill to flush one toilet. This method does not always work.

· A box fan blowing on our wet basement all night worked very well. Now I'm absolutely stressing over the pending thaw, which is bound to refill that 90 cubic foot dirt sponge sitting adjacent to our foundation wall, ready to undo all our hard work.

· The insurance adjuster is supposed to be arriving at our home sometime today. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

· I never did get to watch the third season of Magnum, PI in its entirety. That's OK; now I have a goal.

· The satellite dish is substantially higher than we thought, hence, the 'good channels' and DVD options are null. Magnum will have to wait.

· There is no way I am going outside to use the handy five foot iron key to turn on our water at the meter in our yard, despite our landmark beacon, The Cone.

· I don't like not taking a shower in the morning. Walking a mile to my friend's house to do so seems like an extraordinarily bad idea this morning.

· Tyler's Mustang looks pretty cool with a fastback of snow.

· The drift growing off the roof of our garage is actually quite beautiful.

· I've watched a lot of TV in the past 24 hours. I actually want a Chia Pet and a Chia Herb Garden. Perhaps the Clapper? Tough call.

· My new car will definitely be something 4WD and quite massive, with a 47" road clearance.

· I'm an idiot. See below:

Tyler called last night around 7:30 and wanted us to pick him up from Chris' house. Chris lives about a mile from us. "Sure, honey, no problem," I professed as I threw on my coat and boots (no socks, gloves or hat - that would take too long) to go fetch the boy.

I opened the garage to snow up to my knees. I checked this against the bumper of the scare-a-van, and thought, "Oh, yeah, she'll clear that." I realized I have a death wish for that car. Today I will acknowledge the voice in my head that firmly stated, "Ann, don't be an idiot. You'll get stuck in the driveway, hit Tyler's car, the mailbox, or worse." Nevertheless, I jumped in the van and put her in reverse.

I got half way out of the garage and had to rock it back and forth, then made it to the curb and nada. Zip, zilch, nothing. I was spinning fast enough to create a gravitational pull toward the van, creating a beautiful ice slick on the driveway in the process. At 8:00 p.m., I came in the house to empty the snow out of my boots which, although new and wonderfully warm, are much shorter than the drifts. I really wished I had worn socks. It was then that I realized my ears were cold. Ouch - make that really cold. So I dressed more appropriately, Phil grabbed the phone to call Tyler to tell him his wish to sleep in his own home would not be coming true, and my saint of a husband helped me forge the van back into the garage.

We have a two-car garage. The doors, though, are two single doors. Have you ever tried to aim a swerving, entirely out of control scare-a-van into a tiny little opening like that? It's really scary and it does nothing but highlight one's idiocy. All the cursing was mentally directed toward me for my ridiculous idea, but by 8:20 we had the van safely back in its stable, bedded down for the night. Sorry I put you through that, ol' girl.

The best part of this stupid attempt was Catherine's reaction to it all. When I'd successfully docked the beast back in its place, she proudly proclaimed, "Good job, Mom! I knew you could do it!"

That's my girl.