Phase two of the big winter storm came tip-toeing in last night, waking me slowly this morning to the sound of our wind chimes ringing furiously on the front porch. And next came the rain, slow at first but then too hard to want to drive in.

As a result, we decided that today was a lazy day. We lounged in bed as long as we could, and then lounged some more with our breakfast, eating bowls of ice cream and leftover cookies while still tucked under the sheets. I read Watermelon, by Marian Keyes, in an attempt to finish up my latest pile of Chick Lit books before they're due back to the library, and managed to get more than halfway through the sequel, Angels before I had to leave to go to practice.

We met my mom for lunch and tried to actually get something productive done afterwards, heading off in search of our joint Christmas present, which is to be a Playstation 2 game console. Unfortunately the first store not only did not have any game consoles, but also offered not a single game that appealed to either of us. We were all set to continue our search until we actually reached the freeway, which is when the rain started pouring down in earnest, and we decided that new video game equipment can wait for another day.

It may have deterred us from spending money, but we couldn't ignore the rain completely. When we got home, we changed into old shoes and clothes we didn't mind getting wet and then we went outside into the rain and walked.

It was bitterly cold, especially the first few minutes when it dripped down the back of our necks and the droplets soaked through our thin shirts and first reached the skin. We walked down the street in search of puddles, and stomped in all the largest ones we could find. We marched through puddles, lifting our feet as high as we could before stomping down, and even jumped with both feet directly into the deepest pools of water just to get the splash.

Our shoes were soaked and our socks and jeans too. We stripped off the shoes and left them on the front porch and then took off the socks and walked bare-foot into the house, leaving a trail of damp footprints on the floor. And then we stood in front of the fireplace upstairs, which we had turned on before we left for just this purpose, and took off all our wet clothes and let the warmth from the flames chase away what was left of the rain.

Tis the season for Holidailies!