Snowstorms, Sledding, Hawkeyes Glory & Thanksgiving Chaos

Thanksgiving. We could not wait for the awesome food I was going to cook. So we cooked it on Wednesday.

My crazy husband and our daughter went sledding in the crazy snow storm we had. Now it’s snowing again.

I’m sitting here with a mug of something warm… I can’t remember what I poured because I’ve reheated it three times now and it could be tea, coffee, or possibly hot chocolate. The blanket over my legs is definitely too small and keeps betraying me every time I shift, but it’s soft and it lives on the couch, so it has become my emotional support blanket. And as I write this, I can hear the faint whisper of the wind outside trying its absolute hardest to rearrange the siding on our house. So yes, it’s snowing again. That is now the default weather report: Iowa Winter — Mostly Snow With a Chance of More Snow. This week felt like a weird blend of holiday anticipation, weather drama, football triumph, and chaotic family moments. So here I am, scribbling down everything while it’s still fresh or at least fresher than the leftovers we’ve finally finished from Thanksgiving 1.0 (yes, 1.0 we’ll get to that). You’d think after a lifetime in the Midwest, I’d be used to these Iowa snowstorms, but this week Mother Nature was showing off like she was auditioning for a weather documentary. It started with a “light dusting” which is Iowa talk for “better cancel your plans and locate your shovel.” Then came the heavy stuff, the kind of snow that falls sideways because the wind is tired of gravity and wants to spice things up. There’s snow piled against the back door like it’s trying to break in and take over as the new homeowner. Honestly, at this point, I would respect its authority. Meanwhile, the weather might have lost its mind, but the Iowa Hawkeyes certainly didn’t. They marched out on the field and absolutely stomped Nebraska with a glorious 40–16 victory. I wrote it in big enthusiastic handwriting across an entire page in my planner because wins like that deserve dramatic documentation. The whole state practically levitated with joy. After the game, you could probably hear distant cheering echoing across cornfields. Neighbors who normally wave politely suddenly high-fived strangers at the grocery store. Even the snow paused for a split second, like it was thinking, “Wow, that’s impressive.” I swear, Hawkeye wins make the cold feel warmer. Speaking of warmth, this brings me to our very unconventional Thanksgiving situation. Let the record show: waiting until Thursday was simply not in the cards for us this year. We tried. Truly. We made it all the way to… Wednesday morning before we said, “Nope. We’re hungry. Let’s cook.” So we did what any reasonable family would do when faced with the tantalizing presence of Thanksgiving ingredients: we started our holiday early. I have zero regrets. The moment we accepted our Wednesday rebellion, the entire kitchen transformed into a full-scale Thanksgiving operation. The turkey went into the oven with the confidence of a bird destined for greatness. Potatoes were mashed to the point of becoming a spiritual experience. Rolls puffed up like they were excited to be here. There was stuffing, green bean casserole, pie — everything. All of it. And it tasted incredible. Meanwhile, everyone else was still prepping their Thanksgiving tables, and we were already in our post-dinner food comas. We woke up Thursday refreshed, full, and armed with leftovers. Greatest life hack I’ve ever stumbled into. “Should you cook Thanksgiving dinner early?” The answer is: emphatically yes. While we were basking in the glory of early Thanksgiving, the weather ramped up into full blizzard mode. Snow was coming down like someone turned the sky into a malfunctioning snow machine. Our windows were frosting up like iced cupcakes, and the driveway looked like a white sand dune of misery. It was the kind of storm where the wind makes that ghostly howling noise that convinces you your house is about to take flight like the Wizard of Oz. Naturally, this is when my crazy husband and our daughter decided they needed to go sledding. In a storm. A full blizzard. Whiteout conditions. Winds that could blow a snowman into another ZIP code. They put on their snow gear like two children starring in a winter survival movie. Hats, gloves, scarves, snow pants, coats — layer after layer until they looked like marshmallows with legs. I told them it looked dangerous. They told me it looked “awesome.” I told them it was freezing. They said that was “the point.” And off they went, dragging the sled behind them with heroic determination while the wind tried to blow them into Kansas. I watched from the window like some Victorian wife waiting for her explorers to return from the Arctic. At one point, I swear I saw them get swallowed by a curtain of snow. I considered calling them back inside, but the wind was too loud and also I didn’t want to open the door and let the weather inside. Nearly an hour later, two snow-encrusted humans stumbled back in, breathless, red-cheeked, and triumphant. They were soaked in snow, shivering, and grinning like they’d just conquered Everest. They smelled like fresh winter air and questionable decision-making. “We had the BEST TIME EVER!” they declared in unison. I nodded, poured hot cocoa, and silently thanked the universe they returned alive. When the sledding chaos calmed down and the snowstorm settled into its “just kidding, here’s more snow” phase, I turned my attention toward a new project I’ve been excited about: DIY Snowflake Ornaments. Because if the weather is going to behave like a cosmic snow dispenser, we might as well lean into the theme. So now the kitchen table looks like a craft store exploded. There are glitter jars that refuse to close properly. Popsicle sticks in places popsicle sticks should never be. Three types of glue. An army of beads. Scissors that disappear every time I blink. One ornament I made looks shockingly good — like something a person with real crafting skills would create. Another looks like a snowflake that’s had a long, rough life and maybe needs counseling. But that’s fine. That’s the crafting journey. The plan is to turn the good ones into a cute guide for this week’s DIY — something like “Easy DIY Snowflake Ornament Tutorial” but written in that warm, friendly tone that makes people feel like they’re crafting with a friend who won’t judge them when they glue something on upside down. Honestly, making things by hand in the middle of an Iowa winter feels right. The snow outside may be relentless, but there’s something comforting about sitting at a messy table covered in glitter, sipping warm coffee, and creating tiny pieces of frozen magic. So now, as I’m wrapping up this week’s Orbit Report — officially one long chaotic recap of Iowa winter storms, Hawkeye football victories, early Thanksgiving madness, sledding adventures, and crafting disasters — I’m realizing how strangely perfect the last few days have been. Chaotic, yes. Snow-covered, absolutely. But also full of laughter, good food, ridiculous decisions, and memories that already feel like they’ll be funny for years. Iowa may freeze solid, but it also wraps life in a certain softness — that cozy, homey feeling that makes you grateful for warm houses, warm meals, warm people, and warm coffee (even when reheated three times). And yes, it’s still snowing. It will probably snow tomorrow. And the next day. And maybe forever. But with the Hawkeyes winning, Thanksgiving leftovers in the fridge, my family thawing out from their sledding adventure, and glitter stuck to my elbow for reasons unknown, I wouldn’t trade this week for anything. Until next time, I’ll be here watching the snow fall and wondering if we should make Thanksgiving 2.0 on Wednesday next year. P.S. If this snow keeps up, I’m officially declaring freeze-dried snacks the required survival ration of Iowa winter. Luckily, we make those.

Winter Wonderland Cabin Vibes “A family watching the Iowa vs Nebraska game inside a rustic cabin, roaring fireplace, wooden beams, snowstorm outside large picture windows, cozy blankets, winter boots by the door, realistic, warm and inviting scene.” ________________

Magical Holiday Cartoon Style “Cute cartoon family watching the Iowa vs Nebraska football game, twinkling holiday lights, steaming mugs of cider, fluffy pets on the couch, big snowflakes falling outside, colorful and cheerful holiday aesthetic.” ________________

Cinematic Snowstorm Mood “Moody cinematic scene of a family watching the Iowa vs Nebraska football game, TV glow illuminating the room, snowstorm visible through a large window, soft shadows, modern living room, high realism, atmospheric lighting.” Recommended Categories (choose 1–3): * Torus Coffee Company * The Orbit Report * Winter Season * Family Life * Holidays & Traditions * Iowa Living Recommended Tags (use as many as fit): * Iowa Hawkeyes * Iowa vs Nebraska * Snowstorm * Winter vibes * Thanksgiving week * Family time * Midwest living * Cozy home moments * Football rivalry * Holiday season * Snow days * Homemade traditions * Torus Coffee updates * Freeze-dried snacks * Small business life * Iowa City Top Focus Keyword Options

The roads were bad enough that we stayed in, and the freezer was full because I had already filled it. That is the whole trick. Fill the empty space and the freezer becomes a block of cold instead of a box of air.

Stay curious. Stay crunchy. Stay cosmic.

— Sara Jane Shelvock, CEO, Torus Coffee Company LLC