Snowy Sundays

Was it Verlaine or Baudelaire who complained about rainy Sundays? What about snowy ones? Tomorrow is supposed to be a bitch with LOTS of snow. Ah god, I am so sick of the cold and the ice and the snow.

On Friday, we took a nice long walk in the 50+ weather. Hadn't been out since November. What a seige. It was lovely. Fed the cows, too. The cows have a flock of robins in their pasture. I wonder if the robins don't find bugs in the cow manure. No idea, really.

So today we tackled the accountant's tax workbook. The writer must keep meticulous records. Mine were only so-so. I had to do a lot of research to find out what some of the listed expenses were actually for, and changed the categories to better agree with the work sheet.

I was astounded that I spent to much money on writing last year, compared with the really paltry money that came in. I attended three conferences, one out of town. And all the dues and meetings and this and that really add up. The royalty check was laughable. It is always hell on wheels to compute the "beginning inventory." This year I will write the freakin' number down instead of having to back into it.

Doing the tax workbook takes a day out of my life, and I always resent it. Accounting is not my thing, although I do force myself to keep records all year and not just throw receipts into a paper bag. Imagine! Eeek!

Last night we had oregano chicken which was tres tasty. I made a broccoli rabe dish from Cooking Light, which I swiped at the vets. Reminder to self: take a nice magazine back in return. Tonight we have a tenderloin with pepper recipe from the South Beach Diet. I went through all my diet recipes (yeah, as the pie was baking ) and realize most of them are actually salads or veggies. Salad in the snow is really not an option, but there are a few beef or chicken that actually sound good.

Hey, there are still 2 pieces of the chocolate pecan pie left, which will be history after the scanty fare on tonight's menu. We really were very disciplined to eat ten pieces over 5 days. Self control is all.

Thisbe wanted to go for a stroll on the porch all day, but whenever I opened the front door, she recoiled in horror. Once she stood with front paws on the porch and back paws in the house. She complained a lot. Water bowl is low; moist food now; where's the catnip? Do something about the weather, will you?

Off to make dinner. Last night we saw a fun movie from Netflix. Waiting for Guffman. Much of the same cast as Best in Show. Forgotten Indie gems.

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