I spend a lot of time with Mary these days. Mary is the 11 year old, red head, rail skinny, quadruple-jointed prodigy I call my sister. Right now she sits on our two-person couch drinking spiced cider, probably luke warm spiced cider but i'm not sure, loudly eating an english muffin with Adam's Brand Peanut Butter (the Barbour family favorite) and casually rests her abnormally long leg over the arm of the couch. Mary has an obsession with animals, she especially likes cats but enjoys rodents and winged creatures as well. Since she brought a hamster into the family, I have not spent the night at my mom's. Partly because I don't have to get up early in the morning anymore, but mostly because the last time I did spend the night I woke up mid-dream with "hamster" asleep on my head. No, I am not a fan of the hamster. I love it when Mary spends the night. Tonight she's staying over in case it snows, which, according to channel five, will undoubtedly happen! The number of times that Mary's toes crack in a day is close if not equal to the number of steps she takes in a day, this bothers me. I have been trying all day to teach her to walk in a way that would not cause her toes to crack; i am yet to succeed.

I apologize for anyone who reads these entries expecting a moral, ending, or deeper meaning, I am really just rambling. Maybe if you're lucky you'll find some insight or revelational statement, but it's not my intention. And so, that being said, I end my tangent. Goodnight sky that wants be cut open and bleed snow onto the Pacific Northwest.