Dog Days of January

Okay, so I know that January doesn't have Dog Days, but it does need something to describe it. The Slow-Depressing-Cabin-Fever-Pull-Out-My-Hair-Because-We're-
All-Going-Crazy-Days sounds a wee bit too awkward.

Happy Boy is going through a mental growth spurt, which experience has taught me goes hand-in-hand with a disobedience spurt. Today Happy Boy dropped a container of lemonade aid on the floor. Yesterday he poured a whole bottle of red wine vinegar into the bread machine and onto the counter. The other day he got into the food coloring. For the past several days there have been huge liquid messes of one sort or other on the floor that we got to clean up.

It has been mostly in the twenties and thirties here lately. I know that is downright balmy for some people, but for us warm blooded folks it makes outdoor activities difficult to do. Yesterday we all went on a walk and the only person brave enough to be out was someone who had to walk his dog. I decided that without gloves or mittens, we probably should have stayed home.

I am not a skirts-only type of person, but that is what I mostly wear since they fit better due to my shapeliness (or lack thereof). Because it has been so cold I have been wearing pants more often, and my favorite pair just got a hole in the knee.

On a happier note, we are in the middle of saying a novena to St. Thomas Aquinas which lists different virtues of his each day. It reminds me why I love him so much. It also reminds me of when I first fell in love with him, my junior year in college. Just thinking about him makes me feel happy.

Tomorrow is the feast of my husband's patron saint, so I will have to think of something special for him. St. Francis de Sales the patron saint of writers, but I don't know how to incorporate that into a dessert.