Had the perfect snow day yesterday. The kind that usually only come when a person is under the age of eleven, and is still pyjama-clad with the clock radio on, announcing the name of the person's school. Let me explain.

Yesterday was slated for our RWA chapter's monthly meeting, and of course I was looking forward to that, but all that gorgeous white stuff had been dumped on us during the night (yes, I am a snow bunny from waaaay back; don't do sports, but love love love snow) and continued to fall, along with icy stuff that turned all the trees, and unfortunately, the streets, to shining crystal. Wasn't quite sure what to do with the time, when a knock on the door alerted me to my friend, Jamie, who was going to be my ride to the cancelled meeting. She hadn't recieved the cancellation message, so she was there, I was there, my (nonwriting) friend Linda was there, so we put on the kettle, sat on Linda's living room floor and yapped until someone suggested going out to lunch.

We skidded out to Linda's car, and ended up at the restaurant where my husband cooks. We didn't announce ourselves, but either he spotted us or someone alerted him we were there, because he came by our table. We chatted for a few seconds, he kissed me and headed back to the kitchen. The waitress came up, looked at me, and smiled, asking, "Rheuben's wife?"

I was feeling puckish enough -- the sort of bravado only Diet Coke and two girlfriends can bring on-- to look around with a pannicked expression and ask , "What, is she here?" Which made us crack up even more. It's probably a good thing Jamie had to head home, or we would have had dessert, and who knows what that would have brought on.

Jamie and I did actually get a smidgen of chapter business taken care of by checking webpage stuff on my computer, so we should probably report that.