Of the sea

Ever wonder why the bulk of human population lives in coastal areas? Me neither. I do wonder - and often - why I live as far from oceans and seas as possible. Probably a combination of luck, chance, and maybe a choice or two, I guess. By the way, I live in a state that boasts the monument that marks the (approximated) Geographical Center of North America.   

I can’t get much further from the sea than that, even if I tried.

*****

The trip to The Bahamas was lovely, if ever always too short. A week is a long time to be away from home and yet not near long enough to be at the beach. The weather was warm-ish…high 70’s to low 80’s. Windy, depending on where you were and what time of day it was.

But oh, the sea. Every cell in my body soaked up the salt in the air and the gloriously warm humidity and I was euphorically happy for seven whole days. No need for a hair dryer. No need for makeup. No need for an alarm clock. No need for socks…or jackets, or mittens or anything but rum, flip-flops, a swim suit and maybe a nice dress to wear to a late dinner. 

Just the sound of crashing surf lowers my blood pressure in a way no pharmaceutical or exercise regimen ever could.

I ate way too much at every meal. Drank even more, including several-too-many rum punch drinks served in a coconut whilst lounging under an umbrella on the beach. I did no ‘on purpose’ exercise, despite access to a full gym and spa, but I walked and walked and walked like it was my damn job. My lands the place we stayed at was ENORMOUS. In fact, on the last full day there, Chad was feeling a little under-the-weather, so I left him to nap in the room and roamed around an area of the resort I hadn’t managed to find before. I put on nearly 8 miles. Eight. Miles. Walking around the resort, looking at stuff, and wandering into the Private Residence area by mistake. I just acted like I belonged there and smiled at everyone. No one kicked me out for breathing the gold and diamond encrusted air.

We took a taxi into Nassau and shopped the straw market. On another day, we and another couple signed up for a snorkeling excursion on a catamaran. We toured a rum distillery and rum cake factory. We played in the resort’s water park. We drank too much at Margaritaville. I tried to buy some Kush, just to see if I could. (I could have, but didn’t. Really.)

It was a Resort in every way - very much catering to American tastes, which I didn’t like much. If I wanted to eat at Johnny Rockets, I’d have stayed stateside. But it was clean, if excessively expensive. Maybe spending $300 on dinner for two is normal for some people, but I thought it was obscene.The staff were welcoming and helpful. I made friends with the doorman, Aaron. He forgot me before the airport shuttle van door closed behind me, but that’s ok.

 Muffin and Smoke nearly murdered me for being away, and despite a few cold shoulders were happy to have me home again.

All that jazz

The last of the gifts arrived via UPS this morning. Note to self: remember to check receipts at some point in the very near future to make sure. Nearly all of the holiday shopping this year was done online. Oh, how I love thee, Sweet Internet Shopping Carts and Free Shipping Gods. Of course, there are a few gifts that I must purchase in person, but those things are few and far between. Pretty sure I can manage it before the 24^th.

*****

Just finished the holiday letter (not sure if I’m going to send it to everyone, my humor has not improved with age) and I ordered cards with the family picture on them to send. I should have the cards in time to mail between Christmas and New Years (or shortly after New Years), because anything arriving from me in the mail *before* Christmas would cause spontaneous combustion or heart palpitations or something. I’m just not that organized.

*****

And now that I mention organization: I am actively avoiding cleaning out my closet because, holy crap on a cracker, there isn’t much in there I’m going to keep. Having officially rid myself of 46.5# since June (I’m not done yet) and also having officially No Job Prospects in the Foreseeable Future makes keeping a closet full of suits that don’t fit and office-wear I don’t need not just silly, but a stupid waste. A lot of the pieces were expensive and of superior quality. It is just a shame such things are collecting dust, crammed in the back of a closet.

The dressers have been weeded through, however. I’m going to donate no less than 16 pairs of jeans of various repair, size, and color to my mother to do with as she pleases. I have a feeling she’ll make some kind of quilt out of them, which would be kind of cool. I’m also going to donate no less than 30 t-shirts, tank tops, sweatshirts and various what-have-you items to the Salvation Army or similar, because I just don’t want or need all that baggage. Feels good to get rid of it. And I know once I get through my closet, I’ll have similar good feelings, but it is just so damn daunting. Easier to keep the doors shut and not even look in there.

So in effort to continue avoiding my closet, this week I’ve cleaned out and rearranged two china cabinets, the spice cupboard, the cupboard that holds most of my coffee cups, travel mugs and water bottles, the bathroom closet and all of the vanity drawers. I’ve moved all the furniture and vacuumed or mopped as required. As previously mentioned, I’ve written the holiday letter and purchased holiday cards. I’ve also sat on the couch and looked at a few magazines. 

*That* is how much I’m dreading going through all that is in my closet. No small task.

*****

In an effort to find some Holiday Spirit - somewhere, anywhere - I’m currently listening to “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” The Original Soundtrack by Vince Guaraldi. Now if the weather would cooperate and get below 40 degrees F and possibly even snow again, that would help. Since I don’t have to go anywhere on a daily basis anymore, having snow and ice doesn’t bother me in the slightest. (Ok, I still don’t like winter, but if I can stay home, who cares?) Snow makes my semi-sorta-daily walk with the dog interesting, but I’d rather wear cleats and walk on snow and ice than deal with muddy, slimy gravel roads. 

So there.

Take a walk on your hands

Lists
The bills are paid. The house is (relatively) clean. The laundry is done. Random chores are complete. Phone calls returned. Questions answered. Supper is defrosting in the sink. I’ve blazed through my list and now - at the bottom of that list - the word “write” sits there waiting to be crossed off.

I’ve joined I don’t know how many writing groups, self-help email/motivational list-serves. None of that does any good. Instead of putting “write” at the bottom of my list, I just need to put it at the top. Maybe that will fix me.

Or is that too simple?

Sleep
For the past few nights I’ve been having trouble sleeping, and I’m not sure why. Usually, I can chalk up a fitful night to a brain that won’t shut off or external stressors that must be obsessed over at 3am. But this time my arms hurt. Or ache. Or something. And it is keeping me awake at night.

Is there such a thing as “Restless Arm Syndrome”? Like Restless Leg Syndrome, where your legs feel like they need to move and kind of ache in a really uncomfortable - not-in-the-muscle-more-like-in-the-bones - kind of way…but in your arms? I’ve tried sleeping in different positions. I’ve tried all kinds of different over the counter sleep medicines (with the exception of the Trazadone I still have from a previous round with insomnia/anxiety). I’ve even cut back on the caffeine, thinking that after all these years, I’ve finally developed a sensitivity to it.

No such luck.

Fall
This time of year is weird in The Northland. Cold one day and hot the next. Jeans and a sweatshirt complete with socks and real shoes, then shorts and a tank top with (maybe) flip-flops. Sometimes Cold and Hot in the same day.

It all just foreshadows Winter.

And I’m not into Winter. Not at all.

Until it happens to you

Mashable

The end of August/start of September means back to school, yes, but also doctor appointments and random yearly “stuff” that must be crossed off a list somewhere so as to maintain my family’s membership in the club of humanity. Apparently.

And now that I’m “of a certain age” I get to have additional appointments that require the squishing and squashing of body parts that should never be squished or squashed so severely. Ow.

In fact, I was so discombobulated after that appointment that I didn’t notice until I was getting undressed for bed much, much later in the day, that I’d forgotten to remove the little pasties the technician applies. I’m sure they serve a purpose - a medical purpose - and are not just something to point to and laugh.

Getting old is fun!

More weather observations

Today is hot. And sticky. This morning was 72 degrees at 7am with humidity hovering around 95%.

That kind of sticky weather requires all the insides of windows be wiped down or risk warping the wooden sashes. That kind of sticky weather also requires the full-time use of no less than two dehumidifiers or risk the health and life of the AC unit.

Heat and humidity do not bother me in the least. As long as I do not have to don panty-hose or wear makeup, I could not care less about hot and humid weather.

But.

And there is always a BUT.

This weekend, one of Chad’s many cousins is getting married, and that requires dress clothes (no panty-hose, however) and makeup and probably even clean hair. The wedding is an outdoor affair - and therefore it follows that the forecast calls for rain, thunderstorms, wind, and probably a plague of locusts or maybe just a tornado or two.

Lists on lists

Analysis paralysis

A cat is sitting on my “book of all things” so I will not access my to do list until he moves. This could take a while.

*****

The heck?

My “book of all things” is a black and white graph composition book. I saw a “Bullet Journal” tutorial and liked the concept. I’ve been using the system for about a year and a half. I find it very comforting to know everything is in one place. Things like recipes, crochet patterns, to do lists, passwords, shopping lists, scraps of writing or ideas for writing, doodles, meeting notes, events for every month, checklists for motivation, quotes I like, lists of books I should read - - anything and everything can be written/taped/attached/tucked into the pages and then easily referenced in an index set aside in the beginning of the book. I’ve even started color coding and tabbing the thing with sticky notes to make flipping through the pages easier.

I find having everything in once place is a bit disconcerting, too, however; after leaving my previous book on a counter overnight, a cat peed on it.

Yes, the cats are assholes.

And Yes, the Cleaning Of All The Things is a never ending activity in my house.

*****

I got nothing.

The oldest child came out to spend part of the day with the family on Sunday. We also had the lovely task of getting everything arranged for her student loan payments, starting in April. I don’t remember things being so damn complicated (multiple usernames, passwords, security questions, security pictures, and on and on and on, and for the love of anything holy yes it really is an authorized person on this end of the fucking website).

The day a bank starts using facial recognition software to authorize access to an account is the day I will back away slowly from the internet and begin my life off the grid.

Maybe. I like me some internets.

*****

(Random bits of detritus from recent days gone by:)

Sorta.

I have lists upon lists in my head of things I need to do including various projects that involve cleaning out closets full of clothing I’ve not worn since before my second child was born, planning a graduation celebration, paying bills, applying for various jobs in the area, and maybe running a vacuum cleaner around the baseboards. But it is raining or snowing or something uncomfortably cold outside, and that just makes me want to start a fire (by clicking the remote - heh) and spend the rest of the day cozied up in my chair working on something with yarn.

But I didn’t do any of that.

Instead, I made pork chops and rice in the slow cooker, and in another slow cooker is bread pudding with Dulce de Leche. (Winter still has a vice grip on my recipe book *and* the Northland, it would appear.)

*****

Crafty

I poked my head into the broom closet for whatever reason the other day and noticed a huge stash of plastic grocery bags stuffed into the back corner.

And thus a project was born.

I found directions for making Plarn (plastic yarn). File that under “Internet wormhole” because wow. Plarn construction involves a whole damn bunch of folding and cutting plastic grocery bags from Stuff-Mart. I have broken blisters on my fingers from cutting plastic bags into strips.

You gotta know that I take crochet a little too seriously when my hands bleed for the craft.

Once I have everything cut, then I loop the strips together to form a long rope and roll it up like yarn. It isn’t difficult, but it is tedious. And is taking far longer than I expected.

My plan is to make “beach bags” or **GASP** “grocery bags” that can be used over and over. The great thing about Plarn is that the beach/grocery bag can be thrown in the washer (with something like towels) and hung to dry. Recycle the recycling.

Anyway. That is my most recent crochet project.

*****

Playlist: It is a compilation kind of day

A Hundred Miles or More: A Collection (Alison Krauss and various artists)

Anchored in Love: A Tribute to June Carter Cash (various artists)

Found it

Last night I was bouncing around putting groceries away, getting laundry going again, putting animals in or out based on current demands, and figuring out supper when a brick fell out of the sky and landed on my face.



That is the best way I can describe it. I was fine. Totally fine. Busy and engaged, fully functional and coherent. Then suddenly not. My eyes started to water. My sinuses filled up with goo. My throat felt like I’d run it through a paper shredder. My ears crackled and snapped every time I tried just to swallow my own spit….(which isn’t much of anything considering the Sudden Onset Mouth Breathing required in order to maintain minimal brain/organ function, such as it is.)



I sat down, put my feet up and didn’t move from that spot until I dragged my sorry ass up to bed. Groceries be damned. Laundry can wait. Animals? I’m not the only person living in this domicile. And supper? That, my dear friends, is why I keep a freezer fully stocked with frozen pizzas. Co-habitants had to fend for themselves. I was informed that no one starved.



Despite the fact that I did take the dog out for a walk this morning - a much abbreviated walk because of the brick currently lodged in my face and because it is bloody effing cold outside - I’ve not managed to do more than throw supper in the slow cooker and stare at my laptop screen.



I’m on Alka-Seltzer Cold and Puffs Plus Lotion. I’m also currently in search of my ChapStick and heating pad. I doubt I’ll find either, since they are not located within arm’s reach of this chair.



~~~~~



Playlist: Paused

Simple

I finished the second of two ‘crib sized’ crochet baby blankets last night. I think they turned out ok.



I don’t remember the names of the stitches. I modified the finished sizes from some notes I scribbled on a random scrap of paper stuffed in an oversized envelope where I keep most of the patterns and descriptions of crochet projects. I’ve considered selling crochet blankets, hats, mittens, various baby things on Etsy or whatever, but I’m not good at “on demand” production and god forbid someone actually ordered things from me. I’d have no idea what to charge or how to go about it. So, I reserve such things for special gifts and projects that challenge me. Usually, I just go to the craft section of stores and buy yarn based on what I like, how the yarn feels in my hands, the colors, etc., and then wing it. Modern manufacturing practices, standard sizes, mass production, or consistency of any kind never apply.

Next on the crochet list of projects include boot cuffs and fingerless gloves. I made a crochet hat that I wear when I take the dog walking.



I like it and since I have no intention of selling the thing or even giving it away, I guess that is all that really matters.

~~~~~

Yesterday, I went with Chad to town so as to do some phone swapping. We spent most of the day in town and the better part of three hours at the AT&T store. Good thing I like the kid who manages our account. He is funny, smart, honest, sarcastic, self-depreciating, a golf fanatic, and also engaged to marry his long time girlfriend this summer. Never a dull moment.

I am now getting my “new to me” phone set up. I usually take Chad’s hand-me-downs. Funny how I always manage to forget what a hassle all the set up is. Passwords. Linking apps. Ringtones. Notifications. Alarm settings. Pairing with my Fitbit. And my vehicle. And on and on and on. Good grief. Electronics are demanding.

~~~~~

Today is cold, windy and snowing. I’m ok with the cold part. (Still January in the Northland, so meh.) And even the snowing part. (The fields could use some cover. A fresh coat of white can be lovely at a distance.) But the windy part? No thanks. Smoke and I stayed in this morning.

He isn’t happy with me and shows his disappointment by pacing, sitting by the front door, and sighing a lot.

He has passive-aggressive down to an art.

~~~~~

Playlist:

Sons of Anarchy: North Country - EP
This Life (Theme from “Sons of Anarchy”) - Curtis Stigers & The Forest Rangers
Slip Kid - Anvil & Franky Perez
John the Revelator - Curtis Stigers & The Forest Rangers
Forever Young - Audra Mae & The Forest Rangers
Girl from the North Country - Lions


Sons of Anarchy: Shelter - EP
Ruby Tuesday - Katey Sagal
Fortunate Son - Lyle Workman & The Forest Rangers
Someday Never Comes - Billy Valentine & The Forest Rangers
Burn This Town - Battleme
Gimme Shelter - Paul Brady & The Forest Rangers


Sons of Anarchy: The King is Gone - EP
No Milk Today - Joshua James & The Forest Rangers
Bird On A Wire - Katey Sagal & The Forest Rangers
Traveling’ Band - Curtis Stigers & The Forest Rangers
Miles Away (feat. Battleme & Slash) - The Forest Rangers
Hey Hey, My My - Battleme
This Life (Celtic Remix) - Curtis Stigers & The Emerald Forest Rangers

Old and new

I managed to get the crockpot lasagna going in time that we may be able to eat before 8pm tonight. I’m going to consider that my major accomplishment for the day, despite my doing laundry, dishes, and also paying bills and taking a walk with the dog. Whew. It just ticked over 1pm and all that is behind me.

~~~~~

Sunny and (relatively speaking - it is still January, after all) warm but windy, again, today. I could easily be spoiled by such conditions. With the impending winter storm Juno heading for the northeast, I’m sending warm thoughts that direction.

~~~~~

On Saturday, my business partner and I traveled to Mandan so that we could clear out our training center and haul everything back to our respective homes. It was hard work, up and down a huge flight of stairs countless times with heavy, cumbersome furniture, totes full of books and supplies, and random detritus one tends to collect over five years of running a business. A sad and sadly necessary task, when shuttering a business.

My legs hurt from the stairs. My heart hurts from the ending of things. However, when one chapter ends, I suppose the logical thing to do is turn the page so as to start the next. My brain would feel better knowing what that next chapter is or how to start it.

~~~~~
Playlist:

Enya: A Day Without Rain
A Day Without Rain
Wild Child
Only Time
Tempus Vernum
Deora Ar Mo Chroi
Flora’s Secret
Fallen Embers
Silver Inches
Pilgrim
One By One
Lazy Days

January

I’m sure I’ve said it before here, but January is a tough one for me. So many things I can do, even more I should do, but so few I want to do.

~~~~~

January, in the Northland, brings cold and grey, with the constant threat of snow. Or worse, snow and wind. The air smells cold, crackling cold, if that is possible, like sticking your head in the deep freeze on a hot July afternoon. Jarring. Relentless. No quarter offered or given. Standing outside, even when sheltered from the wind and dangerous wind chills, exposed skin starts to freeze in just a few minutes, causing the uncomfortable tingle-sting of beginning frostbite on the cheeks and fingertips.

Unless it is today. Today the sun is shining, the sky is the color of a fragile Robin’s egg, and the temperature is flirting with 40F. Today is the exception to January’s frozen-fisted tyrannical rule. The ever contrary Northland weather makes me feel sorry for the weather man.

But if you don’t like the weather today, hang around for it will change - as if in just a few hours you traveled to another continent - or to another planet.

~~~~~

Playlist:
A Hundred Miles Or More: A Compilation
(Alison Krauss)

You’re Just A Country Boy
Simple Love
Jacob’s Dream
Away Down The River
Sawing On The Strings
Down To The River To Pray
Baby Mine
Molly Ban
How’s The World Treating you
The Scarlet Tide
Whiskey Lullaby
You Will Be My Ain True Love
I Give You To His Heart
Get Me Through December
Missing You
Lay Down Beside Me

Be specific

On the side road that takes me to Interstate and just before the onramp, I drove past a parked pickup today - the kind with weld machines and tool boxes anchored to the pickup’s bed. This isn’t unusual, as people stop along the road for all kinds of reasons: to take/make phone calls or text messages, to check maps or look for paperwork, to sleep, to adjust/secure cargo.

The driver of this particular pickup was standing by the endgate and was facing the ditch, so when I drove up I could see him in profile. It was obvious just exactly what he was doing and it sure as hell wasn’t securing cargo. My sudden arrival startled him, and I’m guessing probably embarrassed him; he quickly zipped up and turned so I couldn’t see his face.

Since when is this ok - if it ever was - stopping on the side road to pee? Usually the culprits are men, but occasionally I’ve driven over the hill to see more of a woman than I care to, relieving herself in the open air, not 75 yards from the Interstate.

And really, if this were 100 miles from any kind of town or rest area, I probably wouldn’t think much of it, but 15 miles east or west on that 75-mile-an-hour Interstate and there are truck stops, gas stations, restaurants and rest stops a-plenty.

I think I’m going to get signs made - like the ones for posting “no hunting” areas - that say “Pee-free zone: take it to town” (or something similar).

Just…yuck.

~~~~~

The weather today requires a new word, but I’m not sure what. The temperature is 27F with 100% humidity. Cold. Damp. Foggy. Snow is threatening - I can smell it on the air. Conditions are perfect for frosting tree branches, evergreens, fences - anything really. Everything is grey, silver, white-washed - like going back to Kansas black and white after living in Oz technicolor.

There should be a word for this.

Froggy (Frosty + Foggy) is the best I can come up with, but it’s not really evocative of the white haze and wet cold, but I hope you get the idea. If there is a more descriptive word already in existence and I’m just too lazy to find it in a thesaurus, help a girl out.

~~~~~

Winter is weighing me down, more so this year than I can remember from years past. Everything seems to take more and more time and effort. Getting dressed. Going to town to run errands. Walking the dog. Cooking supper. Looking for work. Everything is heavy and dense making it difficult to think clearly and stay focused.

I can and I do all those things and more of course; my point is that it just takes more time and concerted effort.

~~~~~

Playlist:

“Anchored in Love: A Tribute to June Carter Cash” (various artists)
If I Were a Carpenter
Jackson
Wildwood Flower
Far Side Banks of Jordan
Keep on the Sunny Side
Wings of Angels
Ring of Fire
Road to Kaintuck
Big Yellow Peaches
Kneeling Drunkard’s Plea
Will the Circle be Unbroken
Song to John

Take a walk

Today the outside temperature hovered at that “just bearable” above zero degree and without much of a wind I had to take Smoke out for a walk for the first time this month. Winter is brutal.

So I layered on clothing, pulled on my boots, and hauled my out of shape self out the door for about half an hour this morning. Rewards for such insanity include coffee, more coffee, sausage-egg-and-hashbrown slow cooker recipe leftovers from last night for lunch today, and a piece of dark chocolate.

What.

~~~~~

Chad went to town today in search of various items including a few ingredients that I’m short on to make General Tsao’s Chicken. In the slow cooker, of course. I’ve never tried such an adventurous recipe, so I’m not holding much for expectations.

~~~~~

Between searching for new and interesting slow cooker recipes and new and interesting crochet patterns, my browser cache is the stuff of legend. If Big Brother is out there (and we all know he is) and watching me he will have a nice nap after sifting through such information.

I’m also searching - without success - for a new career path. Please have hope, dear reader, for I’m losing mine, that this new path does not include Walmart, bagging groceries, or telemarketing.

~~~~~

Playlist: still paused

Crock

I think I’m developing an unhealthy dependency on my new slow cooker. Is that even possible? I’m not going to deep dive into that black hole, but I’ve been considering it for the past 30 seconds, so therefore it is justified as a topic here.

I bought said slow cooker not because I need it - I have several crock pots and slow cookers - but because I wanted the fancy bells, whistles, timers and settings this one has. That and I had some Christmas money burning a hole in my pocket.

It came with a recipe book (included in the instruction manual) and so I tried a couple of the options. I believe the Slow Cooked Oatmeal will become a weekly standard - at least during the cold months (so All The Time). I also tried Lemon Chicken, which was OK except I don’t think I reduced the lemon juice correctly (or enough) because it was a little more tart than I expected. I salvaged the leftover chicken from that experiment and made Chicken Vegetable Soup, which was lovely.

Now I’m making Tuna Noodle Casserole in my slow cooker because apparently I’m about a half-step away from being a Church Lady. Except for the part where I don’t actually go to church and with my nose piercing, I’d probably be found wanting by the local Circle. Or Guild. Or whatever they are calling themselves these days.

No. I’m making Tuna Noodle Casserole in my slow cooker today because Chad is away for the weekend ice fishing. It has become something of an event for Mar and me to have tuna anytime he is gone for more than a day or so. Why? Because that is the only time we get to eat tuna. And we girls love us some tuna.

~~~~~

Ice fishing is a compulsion I do not understand. And not because I’ve not tried it. I grew up ice fishing. I also grew up skating on frozen ponds/lakes, snowmobiling, skiing, sledding…winter sports are one of very few options when you grow up in the Northland.

But now, at this stage of my life, given the option of going outside in sub-zero weather to sit on the ice and wait for a fish to wander by OR staying inside to sit in my favorite chair by the pseudo-fireplace and teach myself a new crochet stitch…well…I think you can deduce the rest.

~~~~~

I’m making a new crochet baby blanket in pink. I’m also going to make a crochet baby blanket in blue. My friend Rootie is patiently waiting for her first grand-baby to arrive and I want to be prepared.**

Of course I’ll offer to make whatever color her daughter-in-law wants, say green or purple or yellow, to go with the decor of the nursery or just random preferences.

**No need to concern oneself about preparation as I discovered an entire Rubbermaid Tub FULL TO THE TOP with various crochet baby blankets that I’ve made and squirreled away over the years. See what happens when I clean out closets? I also found several skeins of yarn that need to be used, so I have justification for making more blankets. The logic for crocheting more blankets makes sense in my head so I’m not going to say it out loud or offer the argument up for debate.

~~~~~

Playlist:
“Chill-out: Ambient” station

Starting over. Again.

This morning I awoke to the smell of oatmeal with cinnamon, nutmeg and maple syrup, stewing quietly in my brand new slow cooker. Damned ground blizzard. Mar needs to have something decent to eat before she leaves for school, because a mother’s logic trumps all. While doing their best with resources available, I understand better than some how limited said resources are (being very familiar with the real estate between rocks and hard places), the school breakfast/lunch option is a luck of the draw most days.

So I got a hot breakfast today, too. And lunch. And probably breakfast and lunch tomorrow, now that I think of it. I’ll need to halve that recipe in future.

Speaking of ground blizzards, whatever we have collectively done to Mother Nature, we need to apologize profusely and start working really hard to win back her love (or at least her tolerance of our existence). Negative number temperatures combined with (also negative) double digit wind chills outlines a classic Hell Hath No Fury situation. I recommend groveling.

And jewelry.

*****
Yoga is a funny thing. And by funny, I mean terrible.

While I usually forgive my inability to practice each asana like the rubber-limbed instructor living in my iPad, I really must be in the running for The Most Inflexible Person on the Planet.

I’ve come to understand that my dog agrees. To voice his unhappiness at my rolling out my yoga mat this morning instead of lacing up my walking shoes, Smoke executed a flawless Downward Facing Dog** and flopped himself between me and the iPad Instructor. He then watched me struggle and huff through 45 minutes of a beginner’s series, and while I tend to anthropomorphize my animals, I think he looked away in embarrassment, as if to say:

“My GOD Woman! Straighten your legs!” and “Can’t you hold that plank pose for more than 10 seconds?” and “Sheesh.”

You get the idea.

**What a show off.

*****

I slammed my thumb in a drawer this morning. I didn’t crack the nail and it looks the same as the other thumb, so I can provide no evidence.

You’ll have to take my word for it: It hurts like a mo-fo.

Which is exactly what I yelped when it happened.

*****

Playlist: Set to repeat
The Eagles - random songs
Audioslave - random songs
Fever Ray’s “Fever Ray” Album
AWOLNATION’s “Megalithic Symphony” Album