Does Anybody Have Superwoman's E-mail Addy?

What's up with all of these unbelievable super women who have time and energy to be a wife, mother, teacher, cook, baker, Mary Poppins, vet, nurse, teach Sunday School, get sick and are still able to do full blown, crazy-awesome blog-sites all at the same flippin' time?  

I mean, come on!

       

Now, I have been known to look and act like Superwoman from time-to-time.   Key words here: "time-to-time".  

Especially when I was younger and every now and then when I feel really, REALLY good, like in the summertime when the joint-sap was freely moving through my body.   

(Think of The Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, squeaking out, "Oy-can!  Oy-can!")

But today I am sick.  Perhaps I should say, still sick.   

Or even better yet, I was getting better until I just HAD to go out into the freshly powdered woods to take photographs of the Snow White, Wooded Beauty that was calling to me like a Siren's song. 

      Maybe I should have told the snowy old witch to shut up. 

    SHE started it all...    

...because  I also went snow sledding later that same day with my Grizz and with the neighbors and their kids.  "Oh I'll just go and take pics of the kids",  I said.   "I'll be just fine!"   

Umm-hmm.

Within 20 minutes I couldn't feel my nose or move my shutter-finger to snap shots, as my hands were froze to the camera; leaving me unable to deal with the snot-sicles forming into Walrus tusks protruding over my upper lip.

But my Grizzly husband was just fine and ready to go!

(Here is Grizz and Cade right before going down the BIG hill, as opposed to the Bunny Hill.  More on that in a bit.)

After going to the vehicle and warming up, I was all better, and sure that I could go back out to play.   Which I did at the giggling requests of our neighbors kids.    I mean, who could resist little Kali's, "Pweese Patti.  PWEEEEESE!"

You try to resist THAT face and Elmer Fuddish accent! 

(This was at their house while getting ready to load up to go.) 

 My incredibly, amazingly patient husband agreed to help me go UP the Bunny Hill (I can hear you laughing!) so I could once again enjoy the sledding part of my childhood. 

He deserves medals and parades. 

I should be locked away so I don't harm myself or others.

I only fell down four times trying to get to a point where I could slide down the hill.   It was on that fourth fall when I decided to just roll over into the sled-thing and enjoy whatever ride awaited me. 

 

Anything was fine at this point.

 

Just for the Record: not all of "my" poofy-girth is me.  A good part is layers of clothing. 

 

 

 

There. 

I feel better and self-defended.

 
 

WHEEEEEEEE!!!!!  I'M QUEEN OF THE BUNNY HILL!!!!!"

                                                             

Not much longer after I got to the bottom of the hill, peeled myself away from the sled-thing, and hauled my Arctic-A** to the vehicle, and my Mighty Grizzter took me home to thaw out and warm up.

Chilled-to-the-bone doesn't quite describe my condition.    

But now, for some odd reason, I felt much worse than before
I had succumbed to the Siren Call of the Snow White Woods and her evil twin, Hell Hill.  

And all I could think of is how very, very much I would like some homemade soup.   ANY kind would do.

But when you're sick...

...even IF it's from daring to enjoy a snatch of fun and glory in the snow...

...you wish that your mom would just bring you a piping hot bowl of noodley love from the stove. (This is, of course, stock footage of some other mom's homemade chicken noodle soup.)

Yeah, well, welcome to MY world.   You know the one where you have to sometimes make your own noodley love?


 



     

Mmm-Mmm-mine looks like this.......  

 At least it was hot and tasted like chicken noodle soup.   

Minus the lovin'.  

When you're not really Superwoman and can barely sled down The Bunny Hill in a single bound, but you still are able to get back to home where the stove, pan, and can opener are, ehh, it's okay.   It's better than okay, actually.

And who needs Superwoman anyway.   

When you are married to Superman.

Hugs From Under The Blankets,

Patti