Yesterday, Tom and I took the rusty bumper off the front of my Durango. (I know it's a gas hog and environmental baggage, but I need it!--I couldn't get in and out of my farmhouse without it in this weather; I've pulled more cars than I can count out of the snow with it, including the guy who plowed out my driveway last week; and what other vehicle can haul a 147-lb dog and a road bike at once?)
We sanded the bumper and are painting it. Result: I now have holes in the bumper; the rust went all the way through! So I'll have a lovely white holey thing. Let's make that holy, and it'll be my communion bumper. That's appropriate for the first Sunday of the new year, right?
It's still -20 degrees out. Freya is unfazed. She still goes outside to take naps in the snow. Yesterday after the dog park, we both had white faces. Her icy breath made crystals all the way around her neck.
AllieCat: in progress. I'm happy with how it's going. I think tightening it is smart. There was a lot of flabby skin toward the end of the book.