Winter Wonderland (Unless you are a very short little dog)

Just when being a grown up was at a Peak of Arrrrgh!ery I got a snow day. Thank you, God, for the lovely snow that shut down the my town for a blissful day.
Puppy and I took the medium-length trek to my Mom’s house on foot… me breaking a path for my very short little dog to bound behind me in. Luckily he loves bounding through snow. At Mom’s there were treasure clues posted and a hunt through the house from basement to attic where two little nieces were waiting to screech hello. And tuna melts. (The tuna melts where in the kitchen– not the attic.)
We did a puzzle of Europe from France that really tested my geography skills since the names weren’t in English… Maddie seemed a little miffed that when I was her age there weren’t all the “little Russian countries” but just a huge mother of a bloc… (The USSR sure made European geography easier.) And then played a game that took us through the Louvre. (Including the “Donjon de Louvre” which is an incredibly fun thing to say ad nauseum.) And then pup and I rebundled ourselves for the long walk home. I love when it snows so much that everything seems silent.

Speaking of silent– I think I wore out the dog. On the way home I dragged one foot behind me sideways (yes, I WAS walking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame) so that the pup would have a little path. It was either that or carry another 10 pounds.

ooo! ooo! eee! eee!

Happy Chinese New Year and the Year of the Monkey. I am not a Monkey. My mother and father are both Monkeys. Not in a Darwin-way… but in a Chinese paper placemat way.

The bummer is that I’ve already had Chinese food this week. Maybe I’ll eat my lunch (we’re due for burgers around here) with my chopsticks? Or maybe I’ll talk the office into it.

My sister used to HATE chinese food…. when it was my turn to pick where we were eating I always chose a Chinese place because I knew what torture it was for her. Sigh. Good times those were. Now she loves it. Go figure. Maybe I had a small part in it? My nieces are very fond of “Pu-Pu platters”– but how could they not be? What’s not to love? Sterno… sharp bamboo skewers… shrimp toast… Yum. And I’ve admitted here before my undying devotion to the Mongolian Beef prepared by the Chinese Kitchen Restaurant in Shepherdstown, West Virginia.

Happy Monkey Year everybody.
Here’s hoping it’s a barrel of…. well. You know.

This little piggie went wee! wee! wee! all the way to the pedicure appointment…

My mom gave me a gift-certificate for a pedicure on Christmas day… I’ve always wanted to try one… but being relatively low-maintenance (and cheap) I never have. I assumed that I would wait for warmer weather to make the appointment but my sister’s going on a cruise this week (my sister is on a cruise seemingly every other month. It’s like I’m related to Julie McCoy. Which, come to think of it, IS what she looked like her senior year of high school…) so yesterday the three of us headed to the Douglas J. Salon which is also a school… the senior students do all the services– resulting in a much reduced rate. (Bonus!)

We were told to pick out polishes. I proceeded to break a bottle of OPI Far East Fushia. (Trish: Wow. I didn’t know those bottles break. I drop them all the time at home.) After the initial horror I have to say it was pretty. All that bright pink on the floor…. Very Jackson Pollock. And a good thing– after seeing it in better light I realized that it really wouldn’t look all that great on my feet. I settled for Cara Mia Crimson. We were then called, one by one, by very three very nice young women to follow them down the spiral staircase (it’s in the old Jac’s building) to a room full of comfy, black leather chairs and black-tunic clad women tending to finger and toe nails.

What a completely decadent experience! A salt scrub, massage, lotion, paraffin dip (that first dip feels slightly akin to torture…), hot rocks and oil– all in all a very sensory experience. And my toes are bright red/pink pretty. I have beautiful feet.

And, according to my experience, part of the whole shebang is enjoying Krispy Kreme donuts, Sir Pizza, AND Japanese food as the beginning and end of the evening….

The drawback to having done this in January, of course, is that we had to reenter the bitter cold night wearing only flip-flops… and today my lovely piggies are tucked away in thick socks and all-weather Land’s End mocs. But I know that they are there. And I know that the odds are that they are more lovely than any other clad piggies in the office.

Monday Monday

Why is it that Monday mornings arrive seemingly so darned earlier than the rest of the week?

My King Don to be back in the clutch of our feathery comforters and wool blankets.

Yawn.

Five happy things

I had a Happy Meal for lunch today– and frankly, it wasn’t all that happy. Or at least it doesn’t feel so happy in my tummy now. Blah.

So I will think of happier things. Hence this list:

1. Barbara Pierce Bush’s second memoir, Reflections: Life After the White House. I don’t care what your politics are– Bar was one heck of a First Lady. Unflappable sense of humor, diehard loyalty to her family and friends, and completely unfazed by public opinion polls. Reading her is a joy.

2. Valentine candy’s appearance on the shelves. I went out to mail a letter at lunch and found not only marshmallow chocolate hearts (thank you, Mr. Stover) but also red heart shaped lollypops. These are the really cheap ones that taste so good. Mine had “Luv U” stamped into it.

3. The space heater that our receptionist brought in for me. My feet are warm. For the first time since October I’ve taken off my scarf in the office. It’s practically a heat wave in here. Delightful.

4. My new Christmas pen. It’s beautiful. And blue. And a RETRACTABLE fountain pen. Click– the nib is there. Click– it’s all safely tucked away… Thank you Namiki corporation. Thank you Boy. I LOVE it.

5. The reappearance of Angel after a hiatus of several weeks. It’s a good little show that my dear pal Scott pointed me towards. Great cast, good writing, and fantastic lighting… what more could a demon-slaying Vampire want? (Not to imply that Scott is a vampire. Although it wouldn’t come as a complete shock.)

Nice hat, Sir

The Bishop came to visit our Episcopal church on Sunday.

It was very exciting for this girl who grew up Baptist and without the pomp and circumstance of a liturgical church…. And it turns out, the Bishop is a really nice man. He didn’t seem at all appalled that I would announce to him that he’s my first Bishop or that I asked to see his ring. Robby and he laughed at my obsession with all his accessories (LOVE the mitre hat and staff…)

It’s too bad he has to travel so much. I guess we all benefit in sharing him and his very well spoken sermons but it would be nice to hear him every week.

Godspeed Bishop man.

Incessant (but not so malevolent) knitting

A coworker compared me to Madame DeFarge today. Granted, I WAS knitting at the time. I knit during staff meetings whenever possible because it keeps my tongue in check. Mind you, I wasn’t knitting with my tongue– if anything, it keeps my tongue from knitting…. As it is, when I knit, I can somewhat prevent most of the usual staff-meeting-idiocy from causing me to issue forth any bon wits. (Or Terri Observations…)

Anyhoo. The Madam D, you may recall, wasn’t exactly PollyAnna. She knit the names of her enemies with each stitch and made the necessary introductions between them and the Guillotine. She’s finally brought down (Tale of Two Cities Spoiler Alert) by the faithful servant, Miss Pross, and her own gun. (Old Chuck was big on irony.) I suppose it could be said that a lot of thought goes into my knitting. I have scarves that are very specific to me in that they were knit while I was thinking of this or that or the other thing. But I hardly spend that much time cursing the existence of anyone in particular.

I found this description of Madam DeFarge online, “She is a woman of tall composure, with a quick, watchful eyes that seldom seem to look at anything, a steady face, strong features, and great composure of manners.”

And then there are more descriptions that describe her as diabolical and vengeful… I really need to read Tale of Two Cities again. Then I’ll decide whether or not I’m all that offended.

After I finish my scarf.

SNOW!

(And yes, in my head Bing, Danny, Vera, and dear Rosemary ARE singing…)

Why is is that people who choose to live in Michigan complain about the snow? Move. Move to some wretched, snowless state where the seasons don’t change and the tourists pepper all the parks with their white legs and obnoxious accents.

Anybody want to go sledding?