Three Very Good Days

Here is a tale of 3 very good days. Which one do you think was the best?

Day #1: Christmas Day. A day of matching jammies made with love, wonderful mystery packages brought by the (cute) Fed Ex delivery man, sleeping late, eating junk, with nothing better to do than hanging out with the people you love best. Always a very good day.

Day #2: The day we ate these cinnamon buns. Lets try a link. That was my first time, I hope it worked. These rolls were the absolute best cinnamon buns I have ever made or eaten. I did not add the nuts or raisins, but I'm sure they would be good that way too. The recipe only makes 8, but they are so incredibly rich that 8 is plenty.

Day#3: The day the snowplow was dispatched to our street. Oh glorious day. The ice ruts were so big, the poor little toyota was bottoming out trying to slide into our parking spot. The ruts were so lumpy that I had to carry Mina across the street because her little legs were not long enough to clear the bumps. Before entering the street you had to say a little prayer that there would not be any oncoming traffic because if there was, there would most certainly be a collision. Some nights, people would get stuck and just abandon their cars. Resulting in a church holiday as there was no way past or around. Sigh. Maybe my defecting sisters have the meterological advantage here. Needless to say, the day the snowplow came to 79 street was quite an event. All the neighbourhood children, and men, were watching. Shovels in hand, waiting to clear the pathways of ice chunks. Glory be. Now there is (almost flat) pavement. This might be my favourite day.