When To Wear A Scarf

When to wear a scarf:

When you are driving your convertible with the top down on a Pacific Northwest February day,

Or standing around outside for an hour while your nephew plays in the snow.

When not to wear a scarf: walking! At least, that's how it is for me! I bundle up against the cold, but have a silent debate with myself whether to scarf or not to scarf. I'll look super cute with it on, but gosh darn my internal oven! I heat up so fast, the scarf is always overkill. Two blocks into my walk I know I'll be tossing my scarf aside and unzipping my coat halfway.

Still. It is a lovely, lovely scarf made by my talented sister. I look at it longingly when I head out to walk.

Nope. There is a time and a place for my scarf. And walking is definitely when not to wear it!

Waffleloo, Couldn't Resist If I Wanted To

I love waffles. Love 'em. Like, I could eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And when I have leftover squares in my fridge, I can not resist toasting them up for a breakfast treat. Or a lunch time treat. Or a late night snack treat.

I say a sign of a good waffle is that it only needs some butter to top it. I don't want to toot my own horn, but my waffles are delish with only butter. Or as my nephew is proving right now, they are good cold with nothing on them at all!

It's just that when it comes to waffles, I can't resist, even if I wanted to. I get the waffle iron out on a Saturday morning, and I want. I see the piping hot squares, fresh from the iron, and my mouth waters with want. I see them in the fridge and I want.

Waffles. It's what's for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

At least for today! I have a lot left over from this morning's batch. I'm trying to pace myself, spread the joy that is waffles through out the day. Since my nephew ate some for breakfast and some for his mid morning snack, I say my plan is working!

Snow Day

Snow Day!

Doesn't look like much, but there you have it. Our Snow.

Enough for snowmen, snowballs, and good times.

Just watch out for dog poop.

Even if you can't see it, it's still there.

It's the only downside to having three dogs, as far as I can tell!

I Died A Thousand Deaths Today

But you wouldn't have known it to see me. I smiled and talked and worked and did everything I was supposed to do....

All the while pretending I didn't have the worst, tweaked out bangs in the history of bangs.

I'll start at the beginning of my day with the snow.....actually.....I'll start at the beginning....conception and growth in my Mom's cozy womb. Somehow a cow got in with me and licked and licked and licked and that wasn't actually amniotic fluid I was born with. It was cow saliva. All that licking licked a lovely swirly into my still forming hair growth.....in other words, I have a cowlick. Several actually. (Sorry Mom, but the truth had to be told!)

In technical terms, a cowlick is a section of hair that stands straight up or lies at an angle at odds with the style in which the rest of a person's hair is worn. And I have a dozy of one that makes one side of my bangs do strange, crazy, curly Q sort of things.

Fast forward to today, I walked to work because it had snowed and I just thought I'd rather not have more snow fall make me abandon my car at work and trudge home in heels. I wore tennis shoes and socks and enjoyed the brisk weather.

My cowlick did not enjoy the walk. It curled up as soon as I started and by the time I got to work the damage was immense. Now, if I just had a mini flat iron at work, I could have fixed the problem. Instead, I had to work 8 hours with what I knew were crazy bangs.

And speak at a meeting. With crazy bangs.

All the while, pretending that I meant my bangs to look like that. It don't bother me none. I LIKE to have crazy bangs.

Not!

I died a thousand silent deaths for 8 hours and as soon as I got home, I traded in the tights and heels for pirate pants and flip flops, and turned on my flat iron.

Ah. Bliss. The cowlick has been tamed for the next few hours!

Side note, that same cow found it's way into my womb while I was gestating my two kids.....and gave my darling babies cowlicks in the same place as mine. Cows. They do the funniest things.

How The Self Righteous Fall

Oh, how the self righteous fall! Usually a painful crash landing back to the realms of reality.

That is me right now.

All fall and winter, I have been HEALTHY. Gasp! For most of my childhood, I had a cold or pneumonia, it was half dozen of one, six of the other. As an adult, I seemed to outgrow that constant illness....until that is, the kids went back to school and brought home every bug they could.

I could expect a cold or two, usually something that required nyquil and a stack of pillows so I could sleep at night without too much coughing. BTW, after 17 years of sleeping next to me, my darling husband wishes me to the couch when I get sick. I agree wholeheartedly. I'd wish myself to the couch too, but wishing doesn't actually have the strength to move and at 3 in the morning, I'm in no condition to get up.

But this year, I've been virtually germ free! Even working in the doctor's office hasn't gotten me. I've felt an immense amount of pride with this accomplishment.

Of course, it all has to end. You can't have kids in school and work at a doctor's office without getting sick sometime. I started feeling a tickle at the back of my throat six days ago. I've had a day or two that I thought I was better, only to wake up feeling so much worse.

Today, though, I feel like I am on the mend. For reals. I didn't break anything in my fall back to real life, my nose is only this side of bright red, my voice is fading in more than it is out, and if I could breath just a bit deeper, I'd have been on my Wii this morning.

I can't wait to feel well all the way! To be able to smell things again will be a joy.

Or not. I heard some rumblings from the kitchen that one of the dogs has a very "dog" smell. If I could smell again, I'd have to figure out which one needs a bath and which crate needs a wash.

I'll stay sick a little longer, thank you very much!

To My Valentine

I am not a poet.

I am a writer, a thinker, a quoter.

I have nothing new to add

To true love words from hearts so glad.

I am Yours. You are Mine.

Twenty years have sped by

Here's to twenty more, times five.

In other words.....

Till the end of time.

You Caught Me Kissing

If ever a book captured my love for my husband through the last 20 years, and what I hope will be many, many years into the future, it is "You Caught Me Kissing" by Dorothy Bridges. I got it from the library on a fluke because I liked the tittle (which is pretty close to the tittle I'd use for my own marriage 'They Always Held Hands'), but from the dedication on, I was caught. I didn't skim, I didn't pause, I didn't want to stop.

I did need a box of tissues.

From You Caught Me Kissing, page 46:

A Valentine is more to me

Than just a red frivolity-

A satin heart, a tinseled sweet

Are empty symbols, incomplete.

A Valentine is when you rise

To hush-a-bye the baby's cries.

A Valentine is when you phone

And say, "Hi, Ma, what's new at home?"

A Valentine is when you shout,

"Take off that apron, let's eat out!"

A Valentine is when we kiss,

Or talk at home one hour unharried.

My Valentine I say is this-

The great big joy of being married.

Thank you, Dorothy. That is my idea of true love.