Dizzy McStinky

One day last weekend I was enjoying a lovely bruncheon with some lovely peeps on a lovely day. I don't know what all the fuss is about this cold winter crap, because it was sunny and almost warm out there on the front stoop of our host's lovely home.

There were, however, traces left behind of the misery that had encapsulated most of earth in recent months. Most every spot that was blocked by shadow or structure from the sun's warming rays revealed evidence of what my poor people had endured. Snow banks were mostly gray and grisly, but there they stood.

As we sat out on the stoop that Sunday afternoon, I did what any self respecting Californian must do when she spies snow. I set down my cocktail and built a snowman.

Isn't he cuuuuute?

The detail was astounding, if I do say so myself. The features! The expressive face! The fez!

You'd think it took most of the day, right?

scale

Dizzy McStinky was a fine Irish fella. There he stood, tall(ish) and proud. A testament to the joy that can be captured from even the most dismal, cold, gray snowscape.

Dizzy was a big hit with our crowd. Everyone had ideas to adorn him. While our host was unable to produce the tiny top hat I asked to borrow, he redeemed himself by offering the olive right out of his drink. When the olive was too round for a proper head fit, our matriarch heroically bit it in half to reveal the fez that was clearly perfection.

Aw, Dizzy.

Dizzy had himself a grand old day out on that sunny stoop. Dizzy loved the sun. All snowmen love the sun.

Right?

Aw Dizzy.