Unfortunately, it is a very wet snow that Hannah says is no good for making snowballs. Walking in it sucks, too. And tomorrow starts our week of servitude in the public areas of our house, so John will get to shovel snow (if it doesn’t melt off overnight, which is doubtful), and I will get to clean the stairs and entryway. Bleah.
I think I had mentioned the unusually warm winter we had been having up until the first day of spring. The restaurant next door to us got a bit ahead of themselves; they started working on expanding their outdoor dining area right before the snow hit. I was impressed, though—their handymen kept working despite the bad weather, and now the steel girders supporting the new wrap-around porch are already in place.
I think my iron levels have stabilized, if slightly at the low end of normal. For one thing, my eyes look a lot like those of a white rabbit—reddish around the edges. Back when I was bloodless, that part was the same color as my skin. For another thing, walking up stairs (or through slushy snow) no longer makes my leg-muscles gasp for air like a stranded whale (at least, that’s what it used to feel like).
We put in Hannah’s application to her Gymnasium of choice. She may not get accepted because they have a lot of variables they consider, some of which don’t apply to her (sibling already attending), but she had a second and third choice listed in the case she doesn’t get in to the number one choice. We feel that she will get a good education no matter which school she gets into, and we don’t plan on being here for the rest of her education (knock on wood), so it is not the end of the world if she goes to 2 or 3. We know of some parents who dislike the local choice of schools so much that their reaction to not getting into the private schools they applied to was to start considering moving to another country. *boggles*
