It’s 8 days into the New Year. I don’t do resolutions, as they are a big open door to failure (for me, anyway). All that “lose 20 pounds by Easter” and “exercise 3 times a week” and “call my mom every other day”…it won’t happen. It just won’t. Oh sure, 20 pounds by Easter would be lovely, but not if I have to exercise. I have chose to exercise my mind instead. Right? Right. Thinking burns calories, so I’ve heard. I am also trying (though not actually RESOLVING) to Clean Up My Act. No, I am not giving up the Mystery books, but I am taking up some Brain Food books as well. Food wise, maybe throw a vegetable in there now and then. Fruits aren’t appealing, really. All that cutting and chopping and you would think someone who likes to cook as much as I do wouldn’t mind that, but there’s something in there that looks at a fruit and says “I’d rather have some cheese.”
I *am*, however, determined to finish the 3 projects sitting in the sewing room before starting another one. I am going to do it. The red coat needs buttonholes, and a coat with that much effort into it requires good buttonhole, welted ones hand sewn. So there is that. There’s the black skirt made of obnoxiously expensive fabric that requires buttonholes as well, and a blouse about half-made that will look nice with the skirt. See, finish those things and there will be a whole new outfit. So why am I stalling? I like making welted buttonholes and they can be done whilst watching back episodes of something that doesn’t need to be watched closely, or while listening to a sermon, maybe….see, edification AND buttonholes. Win-win.
Right now we are on the second day of that Epic Cold Spell that even made the BBC news. I was listening to it yesterday and they prefaced the bit about it with “normally we don’t care about the weather in the USA but this is big enough to make the news today.” While I do think it is very interesting, even better is the universal reaction to Cold, well, Southern reaction anyway. The run on bottled water and canned stew, the panicked purchasing of parkas and wool socks, which won’t be remembered again until the next Epic Cold Spell, 20 years hence, remembered but not found, as they will have been given away to Goodwill 3 years from now, with commentary about “why did we buy this”. As for me, I stay inside, thermostat set on 65 so a sweater is comfortable, and prepare warm filling meals like Chicken and Dumpling (no, not plural…somehow what was meant to be dumplings coagulated into one big dumpling) last night and vegetable beef soup tonight. Barley or taters? To Be Determined. By tomorrow the cold will have subsided, and people will creep outside, with sighs of relief and weeks of conversation regarding How Best To Survive and “Sure was cold! It got down to 16!” and people trying to outdo each other with stories of how cold it really was.
Here’s a story told by Himself’s uncle: Why, it was so cold that when we walked outside there were all these little green blobs, like tiny frozen clouds, on the ground. I picked one up and when it warmed up in my hand it went “PHBPHBPHBT” in my hand and disappeared with a stink.
Yes, I am a 14 year old boy in a 48 year old woman’s body. Why do you ask?
I continue to be impressed by my friend Northern Girl, who lives in the wilds of North Dakota, and shrugs off that ridiculous -60F wind stuff like it’s old hat, which it is to her, I guess. I would probably die…maybe not, but I would want to. Or at least never leave the confines of a down comforter and a pile of dogs. She has Facebook posts about going here and there yesterday and today. I mean, actual leaving the house and getting in her truck and going places just as cold as where she left. I’m impressed, as I have managed to only leave the house once in 2 days and that was for about 30 seconds. I have this Cough that is aggravated by the cold, and being out means having to pick my lungs up off the ground and blow off the schmutz, which is problematic when you’re in the line at the post office. Most people don’t really understand and might have an adverse reaction. So I stay inside where the floors are (relatively) clean and no one is disturbed by the alarming barking sounds.
Anyway, this First Post of the New Year didn’t really have a theme, I just started writing what was bouncing around in my head. Next time, I am going to write using the iPad, with the Autocorrect that I cannot figure out how to turn off. Nor do I want to because it can be pretty interesting. Then you can have the fun of figuring out what I meant to say.
And for your viewing pleasure, A slinky