We're supposed to get another 6-9 inches of snow tonight. And the old snow just almost melted. Kind of.

vw, it's already started here. It's coming down really hard and I just sent TCG out in it to get lemons. I thought I had bought ton before Christmas, but I went to go get one for the cannelini bean dip and there were none left.

It doesn't look like it's started here yet.

I have scraped and scrubbed, but I feel that there is a thin layer of plastic on the burner, and all I can do is burn it off and stink up the apartment and possibly fill it with toxic fumes. thoughts?

You could try oven cleaner on it before resorting to flame. Spray it with oven cleaner, put it in a dark plastic bag, and let it sit for a few hours, then scrub.

And if you do have to burn it, 1) remove all chemicals first and 2) do it outside if your burners can be removed.

It's snowing here, again.

Cashmere, did they get your snowblower fixed?

They're replacing it, vw. We're supposed to pick up the new one tomorrow. I hope they come in.

think of me when you're in St. Thomas, yeah?

Oh, my! I sure hope so!

ETA: And it just started snowing here.

I am officially Fried. Matilda and I had a lovely most-of-the-day, going to church (everyone, clergy and laity alike, is utterly smitten with her, and she spends the talky non-musical bits running up and down the aisles taking attendance and saying hello to everyone) and visiting my grandfather's lady friend, and everything was wonderful right up until the second when we walked in the door of our apartment and I decided, since Hec and Tom weren't back from Sweeney Todd yet and Matilda was fast asleep in my arms, to slounge down on the couch in front of the heater and watch some of the new Futurama movie that Tom had brought over and consume one of the fancy English Cadbury bars from my stocking while Matilda snoozed on my chest.

Oh. My. God. She woke instantly at the sound of the wrapper, demanded the entire candy bar, and, upon being denied, went in a matter of seconds from zero to howling, snarling, arching, punching, snot-bubbling TANTRUM, so bad that I finally had to just clear the floor of poky objects and lay her down until she'd run out of steam. Not cute or funny, just awful.

So, three earthshattering tantrums so far, two fashion (one black purse, one pair of black shoes) and one chocolate. We're operating on the tentative hypothesis that somehow I have carried and borne Jilli's spirit child. Advice gladly sought.

I don't advise giving in, JZ. Olivia does the drama queen bit and demands my cans of diet coke. With a banshee howl right in my face when I deny her.

Eventually, she will learn that her tantrum will not gain the results she seeks. However, you will hate the entire process and will break out in a cold sweat and be tempted to give in just a little bit and thus slide down the slippery slope.