I'm Cracking

I'm cracking.  Officially.  I'm losing it.  And it's not because of these bad ass cookies from Wally World.  These things are awesome, despite how badly I hate going into that place.

I'm not cracking because of this, either.  Mother of God, who came up with Swiss Chocoate Monster??  Give that guy a raise.  Putting this stuff together with Wally World's cookies and you're in for a good time.

I'm certainly not cracking because of the beautiful Mrs K.  She is a shining star in my world, and she can work a mean power washer.  She braved the just-above-freezing temps on Saturday with me to get some much needed work done.

I'm not cracking because I'm a hopeless romantic, either.  An hour with a power washer and things start getting a little crazy out there in the cold.  I had to wash this away, of course, but it was fun while it lasted.

 Even though I look like I'm enjoying the mud on my face and my soaked clothes, I'm cracking here.

This is why I'm cracking.  Endless Winter.  Winter every where.  Cold.  Ice.  Wind.  Wet.  You name it.  If I wanted Canadian weather, I'd move to somewhere, you know, in Canada!  Today the beautiful Mrs K and I ran at Greensfelder in a few inches of snow.  The wind was howling.  I ran three miles and I'm cracked.  Done.  Broken.  Finished.

To put a nice, fine point on it (get it?), I went to plow the warehouse lot while Mrs K shoveled and salted the walks.  More cold and misery.  I found the perfect tool for something.  I don't know what.  But when you've cracked, your digits are frozen, and there is no end in sight, a big ass icicle seems really freaking cool.

A nice thing to look back on this weekend was Deanna's triumph on her new-used bike.  I showed her some stairs and told her to ride down them and she said "Hell NO!"  But less than five minutes later I took this video.