|Nik provided our marriage with an important lesson in PDA. The lesson being, I don't like public displays of affection.|
I feel like I mention the weather in every blog post, but it's mainly because of its death grip on my emotions and productivity.
I mean, it's kind of difficult to work up the will power to get your day started when the front door greets you with a balmy -10 degree morning. (I'm not even talking about when I open the door, I'm talking about standing in front of our excuse of a front door. It provides no insulation.)
But in an effort to avoid adopting Grizzly hibernation patterns (which I feel like I had the first part down, bulking on pounds to live off of over the holidays) we're trying to maintain productivity.
I want to add, I still love the snow. It's just the ugly half-melted piles of brown snow with the negative temperatures that make winter difficult. (Difficult = unbearable frozen tundra that sucks life out of anything living.) You know that freezer on the show Chopped that has the cheesy name, like Ice-Blaster or something, where contestants put food to freeze it within the thirty minute time frame? That's Rexburg. I live in that freaky fast freezer.
Anyways, here's what we're doing to combat the cold:
Getting out blood pumping, via the only sport I can hold my own in badminton.
No one else has a passion for badminton that can match that of a Barnard sister. We were raised on the sport.
Grocery shopping. I recognize that normally this wouldn't even stand a chance at being considered an "activity". But when the majority of your week consists of work, internship, go home, eat, sleep repeat, my "activity" standards are reduced dramatically.
Also, I went shopping in Idaho Falls, which is a thirty minute trip, so it may even be considered an "activity" at the monthly level.
Everyday, when I do the dishes (that is a lie... I do not do the dishes everyday) I look out the window into the field next to our apartment complex. It's a really pretty view, with snow blanketing the field, and this little red shed.
Nik suggested we go for a walk on Saturday. I told him I wanted to trudge through the snow to visit the little red shed I always stare at while scrubbing dishes. He didn't even know it existed, and he does like the dishes three times as often as I do.
It seems silly, but I feel like the shed and I have a connection, considering the kitchen is my thinking place. I weigh things out in my mind, amidst the chopping and stirring and cleaning that takes place in our kitchen. And the red shed watches it all. It was great to finally meet her in person.
And lastly, speaking of my kitchen, we experienced a domestic failure today.
To complement the dreary weather, I wanted to make the ultimate comfort food: chicken pot pie. I've made it probably three times before today, but this time made some adjustments. I use a Barefoot Contessa recipe that calls for an alarmingly large quantity of butter. So I nixed some of it. It also calls for cream, but too rich of food makes me sick, so I replaced it with milk. It called for chicken bouillon, which I thought I had, but didn't. So I improvised. The result? Humble pie. And no, it was not comforting.