New theme: chilly noses

Poor Santa, his nose now serves as a snow-measurement tool.

Mother Goose must be a snow goose, today anyway that suits the bill.

Even little Jack O'Lantern on top of HallowSwings is topped off with more than just frost.

Those little cyclops ash urns from the smoking areas were a little full of themselves when I came across them on my wintery walk. Don't they look pleased with themselves that they knew to get under roof?

Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater is wishing he'd picked a larger pumpkin shell, so he could snuggle with the Mrs. and keep warm. She's not looking too cooperative. "Maybe you should have thought of that back when you ordered this snug little home for me…"

Here's another well-known pair who aren't getting cozy.

And finally…

We're going to have to go shopping for some serious hand lotion this afternoon.

Snow day!

… well, there’s snow, but we’re here at work.

If you haven’t already, you might want to take a look at our Kima Bay Construction Cam, as the sweep of the area shows some lovely precip. (I refuse to call it “the white stuff.”)

Last night at home, when I realized it was snowing, I turned on the outside spotlight off the side of our house and opened some of the bedroom shades. James was brushing his teeth and I looked forward to him walking into the dark room and seeing the brilliant snowstorm outside.

The flakes were big and heavy, falling with true purpose.

After a classic second-take, James gasped.

Mom! What’s going on? Is that … dust?

Good heavens. It’s not like James has never witnessed snow in his eight years. Nor has he seen that much dust around home.

Wait. Is that rain?

When I reminded him it was winter, it suddenly made sense…the lightbulb went off over his head and my youngest was enthralled.

Moments later, he waxed poetic.

Mom, doesn’t it look like feathers falling?

I smiled inwardly, happy his imagination was still awake.

…hundreds of feathers! From a big, dead bird.

“…or maybe the angels are having a pillow fight up in heaven,” I offered.

A pillow fight? Cool. I’ve never had a pillow fight. Can we have a pillow fight?

You’d think I’d learn, he being our third child and all.

School was not delayed this morning, and all bundled up, the county’s children headed off to class. Today is Day 100 in our school system, so the grade schoolers won’t want to miss their celebratory triple-digit sessions.
Would you like to receive HoliBlog notices – along with news releases and sweepstakes – by email? Sign up here and you can choose whether to receive the emails weekly or the same day the blog posts are published. Thank you!

438 pepperoni pizzas, please


…and make that "To Go."

You never know what you'll find — and where — during the winter months.

These wagons are stacked up by the order counter at Kringle's Kafe while the "St. Nick's Rental Depot" area is being enlarged. The additional storage space is for the 15 new scooters Vanessa has on order for the new season.

You may notice some change in the decor at Kringles.

Tonya-Marie has added some Santas and elves to the seating area.

Santa looks like he's directing traffic, doesn't he, with all those queued-up wagons (in line for pizza, remember?).

Hope they save some for our hard-working painters:

Do monkeys hibernate?

Apparently not…

These simians can't wait for May to roll around.

After yesterday's torrential rainfall, the Kima Bay area should be renamed Kima Mudhole. However, the sun is out, drying the land, so there should be some interesting activity on our webcams soon.

First Class or Coach?

Started off the year with one strange phone call yesterday.

Tammy sent it over to me since it was someone from a magazine.

"Hello, this is Paula."

Yes, this is Angie. I wish to speak to W.A. Coach, Jr.

"You mean Will Koch, right?"

No. I need to speak directly with W.A. Coach, Jr. This is Angie. Please connect me.

"I'd be glad to help you … what is this regarding, please?"

Mr. Coach receives our magazine and in order for us to continue sending him our publication, I need to ask him a few questions.

(Uh, like how to pronounce his name?)

"I'm sure I can answer your questions, Angie. What do you need to know?"

Are you close to Mr. Coach?

(Getting a little personal, aren't we Angie?)

"Yes, I work for Will. I'm Director of Public Relations here at the park. I'd be glad to answer your questions."

Does Mr. Coach have a secretary?

Apparently Angie was convinced a secretary would be able to locate this shadowy Mr. Coach since I was obviously clueless.

As I was regaling Mr. Coach … er, Will, with the story this morning, it suddenly occurred to me I should ask if he even wants to continue receiving that magazine.

"Nah. I've never even opened a copy. I just write 'John' on the cover and route it over to him."

Good call, Coach.