After my rant about the Snuggie craze you probably think I'll never own one. Guess what? I now own two.
It seems someone took it upon him or herself to send me an anonymous gift of two Snuggies. They are royal blue and exactly as described on the infomercial. I haven't used one yet but it is snowing and cold today so I might curl up with one later.
Since I have no idea who sent these to me I will send this thank you note into cyberspace. Many thanks to my Snuggie elf!
Showing posts with label snow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snow. Show all posts
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Snow Days
We're still digging out from the 15-plus inches of snow we received Tuesday night and Wednesday. The city is slowly coming back to life but the first day was a nightmare for many.
The kindness of neighbors continues to amaze me. My father is no longer on the sick pillow but still recovering from pneumonia. Twice he's gone outside to shovel and neighbors run over to send him in the house. Even I have done some shoveling but when I told a friend, he didn't believe me.
Do you remember the feeling of waiting to hear if school was cancelled for the day? I swear a collective cheer could be heard throughout my childhood neighborhood once we knew it was a snow day. It was too dangerous to tromp to the bus stop or walk to school but we could be suited up and out to play in minutes. Sledding, making snow angels, building snowmen or just romping. It was all such fun. Although I will admit to being a weenie about sledding. High speed was never my goal and I always feared hitting a tree. Life can't be all fun -- I recall being knocked off a sled or two. Then it's take a break, have some cocoa, then bundle up for round two.
Snow days for adults have less appeal. We worry about straining our back while shoveling. Frankly, I worry about the old bird across the street who reshovels the end of her driveway. Is this really worth the risk at her age? When my prior oldies (the Belle and the Captain) lived with us, they could fall for no reason at all. Walking through the house was a fall waiting to happen. Yet this neighbor who is older than they were is out there on a mission.
We worry about the condition of the roads. We worry about other drivers. I am always certain I will get stuck and I usually do. Hot chocolate doesn't seem like enough of a reward for risking my life behind the wheel. Nine layers of clothing make most of us look and feel like the Goodyear blimp -- never my fashion goal.
I don't wish to be a child again but I wouldn't mind having a moment of the pure ecstasy associated with snow days.
The kindness of neighbors continues to amaze me. My father is no longer on the sick pillow but still recovering from pneumonia. Twice he's gone outside to shovel and neighbors run over to send him in the house. Even I have done some shoveling but when I told a friend, he didn't believe me.
Do you remember the feeling of waiting to hear if school was cancelled for the day? I swear a collective cheer could be heard throughout my childhood neighborhood once we knew it was a snow day. It was too dangerous to tromp to the bus stop or walk to school but we could be suited up and out to play in minutes. Sledding, making snow angels, building snowmen or just romping. It was all such fun. Although I will admit to being a weenie about sledding. High speed was never my goal and I always feared hitting a tree. Life can't be all fun -- I recall being knocked off a sled or two. Then it's take a break, have some cocoa, then bundle up for round two.
Snow days for adults have less appeal. We worry about straining our back while shoveling. Frankly, I worry about the old bird across the street who reshovels the end of her driveway. Is this really worth the risk at her age? When my prior oldies (the Belle and the Captain) lived with us, they could fall for no reason at all. Walking through the house was a fall waiting to happen. Yet this neighbor who is older than they were is out there on a mission.
We worry about the condition of the roads. We worry about other drivers. I am always certain I will get stuck and I usually do. Hot chocolate doesn't seem like enough of a reward for risking my life behind the wheel. Nine layers of clothing make most of us look and feel like the Goodyear blimp -- never my fashion goal.
I don't wish to be a child again but I wouldn't mind having a moment of the pure ecstasy associated with snow days.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
When Children Multiply
One of the golden girls sent an email yesterday. Her area of the country had a freak snow storm and her children don't see much snow. All of a sudden, it's time for snowball fights and the possibility of building a snowman.
She has two children. At one point, there were four children in her yard. The next time she looked outside, there were eight children.
(I don't refer to them as my golden girls because we're old. It's because we've known each other forever and our friendship is golden.)
I don't know which one of us responded first but I know my fingers were flying across the keyboard and our friend sent the same message:
The Belle's stories about her boys and then her grandchildren still make me smile.
If you do the parenting job well, your children become self-sufficient. They go out into the world and carve their own way. On a snowy day, you might be holding a mug of cocoa and looking at an empty, snow-covered yard ... waiting for children and hoping there will be multitudes.
She has two children. At one point, there were four children in her yard. The next time she looked outside, there were eight children.
(I don't refer to them as my golden girls because we're old. It's because we've known each other forever and our friendship is golden.)
I don't know which one of us responded first but I know my fingers were flying across the keyboard and our friend sent the same message:
Enjoy it!
What fun to have a group of young people romping through the snow in your yard!
The Belle's stories about her boys and then her grandchildren still make me smile.
If you do the parenting job well, your children become self-sufficient. They go out into the world and carve their own way. On a snowy day, you might be holding a mug of cocoa and looking at an empty, snow-covered yard ... waiting for children and hoping there will be multitudes.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Another Crisis Averted
We woke up this morning to a snow covered world. Somewhere between two and four inches, depending on where you live. I love the snowy view, especially when I don't have to go anywhere and I can just look out the window.
Then the mother-in-law informed me that Hangdog has a doctor's appointment and they're going to venture out. She prefaced it by saying, "I know this will upset you but ..." Here's a news flash -- "upset" doesn't begin to describe it. I said, "No!" I considered, "Go to your room and stay there until I tell you it's ok to come out." I also considered stealing and hiding her keys.
This is not a necessary appointment. He is legally blind and it's an eye appointment. He is not going to regain his sight by this routine appointment. Nor is his progress (or lack thereof) going to be affected by rescheduling this appointment.
So, I decided to go with begging and a little guilt. "What if someone crashes into you?" and "What if you hit an icy patch in the parking lot and one of you falls?" and "Why do you want me to worry all day?"
They had to discuss it but thankfully, he was the voice of reason.
There was also some slight worry about not having anything for breakfast but once I proved that we had sausage, eggs, bread, milk, biscuits and juice, she relaxed. For once, I'm thrilled that she's frying up breakfast. At least she's not on the road.
An addendum: She did catch the package of sausage on fire.
Then the mother-in-law informed me that Hangdog has a doctor's appointment and they're going to venture out. She prefaced it by saying, "I know this will upset you but ..." Here's a news flash -- "upset" doesn't begin to describe it. I said, "No!" I considered, "Go to your room and stay there until I tell you it's ok to come out." I also considered stealing and hiding her keys.
This is not a necessary appointment. He is legally blind and it's an eye appointment. He is not going to regain his sight by this routine appointment. Nor is his progress (or lack thereof) going to be affected by rescheduling this appointment.
So, I decided to go with begging and a little guilt. "What if someone crashes into you?" and "What if you hit an icy patch in the parking lot and one of you falls?" and "Why do you want me to worry all day?"
They had to discuss it but thankfully, he was the voice of reason.
There was also some slight worry about not having anything for breakfast but once I proved that we had sausage, eggs, bread, milk, biscuits and juice, she relaxed. For once, I'm thrilled that she's frying up breakfast. At least she's not on the road.
An addendum: She did catch the package of sausage on fire.
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