Huddled Masses....

When my husband yells, "Honey, could you please come here and smell this?", it's rarely a good sign. Yesterday's request was brought on by the odor of natural gas in the garage, lingering around the furnace. I couldn't offer any sterling advice about whether or not we had a gas leak, other than to mention I definitely did not want to get blown up. Rich then remembered he had a tool for this, which seems better than trusting my nose. The gas sniffy meter said it could sniff gas, so the girls club was under evacuation. Where to go? Where else but to the Gap Outlet to shop for Shea. The school recently sent home a note about appropriate winter attire. Shea and the other kids have to wear long-sleeved shirts to school in case there's a fire drill. The concern is the children won't have time to grab jackets and will all suffer hypothermia. It's supposed to be 71 degrees here today, but I had to buy him long-sleeved shirts.

I had some concerns that the employees at the Gap might wrestle Atlee from me in an effort to give her some toddler-style makeover. They didn't. Maybe she wasn't the only shopper to come in wearing a faux-leopard coat and utilitarian mud boots that day. (There aren't any pictures, but trust me that Mama wasn't looking all that great either.)

Post-Gap, we had time to read a book in the car.

We stopped at Kennie's for some groceries. Have you seen our new local grocery store? It's beautiful!

So, we decided to do a drive by and see if the coast was clear at home. The plumber's van was in the driveway. We see our plumber a lot. He's my brother-in-law John's friend, but we see him much more often that John does.

The coast is clear. Below is our box of fasnachts. These are a Pennsylvanian tradition. I didn't know about this tradition since I'm from Upstate New York. However, I can adapt readily. Particularly for donuts. Mmmmm....donuts. See the little red thingamabob behind the donuts? That's the gas meter that started all of this in the first place.