I used to color my hair with L’Oreal Couleur Experte (in that color, which I admit I first bought because I think the woman on the box is really pretty), until it started to make my head itch to such a degree that even I, a veteran tack-sitter, couldn’t stand it.

When I first started buying it, the packaging was a marvel of wastefulness (which later got much better) – for example, the gloves came in little plastic capsules. Of course, I kept all these capsules. Dingo and I use them for all kinds of small items. In particular, I fill one up with vitamins and take it to work, because I tend not to forget about it when the vitamins are sitting right in front of me all day.

Jinx loves those containers. It’s about as bad as touching the laser pointer – when he hears the sound of pills in plastic, he comes running. The containers JUST barely fit in his mouth if he opens it all the way, but because they’re round, he can’t get a good grip on them, so he will carry one around, drop it, bat it a few feet, then spend 5 minutes working to pick the dang thing up again, walk 3 steps, then drop it again.

He will burrow into bags and try to get zippers open with his teeth when he knows a container of vitamins (or, heaven forbid, fish oil capsules!) is about.

The other day he was sitting on the sofa when I refilled my vitamins and took them over to my bag. His ears were like satellite dishes set on Crazy Mode: she has a thing! a thing I like! omg SHE’S BRINGING IT RIGHT TO ME! she put it in the bag for me to get! I can’t wait to

what

zipper! NOOOOOOOOOO

I had hoped that my next post would be about Houston as a Winter Wonderland and that I’d have pictures of actual snow.

We had a little ice, anyway. Today’s high was around 80.

This climate is so yucky.

Take me with a pillar of salt, though, because I’ve spent the last few months checked into a room at the Black Lodge, which is where the sad people go. I’m working on it.

Thankfully, just as I was about at my wit’s end, we absconded to Colorado to visit dear friends who had a baby in December. This is the view from their back deck:

Nice, huh?

I love it there, even when there isn’t a tiny girl who just learned how to smile. Their house is almost at 9000 feet, so one does NOT run up the stairs, and I always have a headache the first day and then the occasional nosebleed from the dry air. But stellar jays, the far-off rumble of ravens, and the enormous swath of stars at night settle me into myself. The cold, fresh air smells delicious.

I feel as if I set down a great weight. I might pick it back up again, but for the moment, I feel lighter and able to sleep.

Heaviness doesn’t translate to writing. I compensate by knitting. I call this one “Virginia: Moody, with Hood”:

Silly photo aside, I am completely crazy about the idea of a scarf with an attached hood. I would wear this thing every day. Except, you know. Eighty degrees.