Years ago when my daughter and eldest son were but three and four years old, they decided to fix me breakfast in bed.  They carefully brought in a tray that transported a glass of milk, a bowl of cold Cheerios with milk and two pieces of wheat toast.  They were giggling as they brought in the tray and though I was tickled that as little as they were, they had thought to do something so kind-hearted for their mother, I was a bit suspicious of the giggling behind their little hands as I tentatively took a sip of the milk. 

It tasted fine so I took another swallow and picked up my spoon and just as hesitatingly, took a bite of the cereal.  Their grins got bigger and since I could find no fault with the cereal, I sat back to enjoy my children's glee and my unexpected pampering. 

But then I took a big bite of the toast and watched them erupt in full-on gales of laughter at the foot of my bed at the same second I realized they had buttered both pieces of it with shampoo.

Years ago I spent my summer afternoons down by the edge of a river that flowed past the edge of the family property. I went down there to read, swim, sun, and to try to make sense of my drama-filled teen years. One day as I was watching the river meander lazily past, I noticed a little black ball of wet fur struggle against the current that was dragging it downstream.  Its' little body seemed ready to give up and I stood up and went to the water's edge to see what manner of animal it was and discovered a little black poodle puppy.  When it spotted me, it cried out to me as if to say, "Help me!!!!"  That was all it took. I didn't even stop to think twice about removing the clothing over my swim suit; I jumped in, clothes and all to rescue it.  Once it caught its breath, it squirmed deeper into my arms, looked up at me with those adorable black puppy eyes and licked me in happiness.  It was a little girl dog and I of course took this 'little dog' home to show my family what I'd rescued from the river that day.  "Little Dog" as she was immediately christened, instantly became an immediate member of our family since we all had taken in a stray or two over the years (my parents welcomed several foster children and my brothers were always bringing home another mouth to feed) and Little Dog fit right in as the most recent adopted stray. My dad said that many people would put unwanted puppies in burlap bags and dump them into the river to drown them so I guess Little Dog possibly escaped her intended end - at least nobody ever reported missing a cute little ball of black curls.  She loved everyone but bottom line, she was my dog. She remained devotedly by my side throughout the rest of her life and when it ended and she passed away, I buried her beneath a tree next to a path that was used by cattle and deer, up in northern Washington.

Don't know what made me remember her after all these years, but last night she came strongly into my thoughts.

The weather experts tell northern Nevada that there does not seem to be an end in sight for the lack of precipitation we are experiencing.  They say that it has not rained or snowed since November 20th and that this is some kind of record.

I am not up-to-date on how the resorts are handling the lack of fluffy, wet, white income but my friend tells me the skiers are not flocking to the slopes (and her shop) like in past years.  The mountaintops around me are brown and I know this will reflect on water consumption and water-based activities and sports this summer. Everything will be dry; fires will surely be prevalent.

So even though I will have to drive in it when I go back to work (ugh), I will be praying for snow, LOTS of it.  And perhaps the kindly Gov will give me a snow day if the Good Lord sees fit to answer my prayers *grin*