Wummer

The little girl whose family lives next door to me been riding her bicycle in circles all weekend. Ashley clearly loves every moment of the 60 degree Atlanta weather. Just as evident is her frustration with her parents' rule that she can only ride as far away as one house on either side of theirs. This means she and I have a whole lot of interaction every time I leave the house because all of a sudden I'm the most exciting thing within her 50 feet of playground.

The hilarious thing is that she calls me a different name every time she sees me; I've been called Cindy, Nancy, Lisa, today it was Sally. This is despite the fact that we have lived side-by-side for two and a half years and I tell her my name every time she calls me the wrong one. She also can't tell the difference between me and and several of my girlfriends, all of whom when they pull up at my house get similarly excitedly greeted by one of the many names on the list. All dark curly-haired girls look the same I guess.

When I got back from the grocery store earlier Ashley showed me a couple "tricks" that she had learned on her bicycle. Basically she would take her feet off the pedals and glide for a few feet. The second trick was the same but she bent her knees a little more.

I asked her if she was happy that it was warm enough to play outside and not have to wear a jacket. She nodded vigorously and said "It doesn't feel like summer. It doesn't feel like winter. It feels wummer though so I call it Wummer."

Wummer it is.

Meantime in Madison, Wisconsin, my poor sister perseveres while inches pile upon inches of snow. She details it in her wonderful blog post, Snow is Moveable. Be sure to check out the amazing pictures of her car covered in feet of snow, and the spot cleared on her windshield so that parking enforcement could write her a ticket.