5 From The Frozen Tundra: Is This My Life Now?

 

from fbook via google

Let me just say right here and right now:  the eventual spring of 2026 had better be one hell of a lovely, warm, beautiful one. And the sooner the better. I have had it with this winter and all of this abusive effing snow. And painful wind. And helplessly hoping that someday the temperature will rise to the lofty heights of The Twenties Fahrenheit. My heating pad is my constant companion.

If you are one of those crazies who Thinks Snow Is So Pretty, or Loves Winter, or Goes Skiing Or Sledding, or Just Loves Winter Cozy Time, DON'T YOU DARE SAY A WORD ABOUT ANY OF THAT TO ME. I AM NOT IN THE MOOD. 

Thank you.

I am fighting this winter with every fibre in my body. It is not going well. Aside from that, what else have I been doing? Let's have a review.

1. I finally read The Correspondent. I read the review that Julie wrote, and she enthusiastically urged me to buy the book, and I'm glad she did. It was wonderful. During this illness and during wintertime, I have trouble focusing/concentrating and mushbrain, and I worried that I wouldn't be able to fully immerse myself in it. That was not the case. This book was so engaging and charming, and I found myself at times identifying so strongly with the titular character. After reading it, it was immediately and lovingly placed on my Favourite Books shelf. Now I'm reading a scholarly nonfiction work called Dark Renaissance about the life and times of Christopher Marlowe, playwright, poet, genius, and spy of Elizabethan England who was murdered before the age of 30. We'll see if I can juggle it along with The Age of Innocence for CBBC.

2. Over the weekend we had the ridiculous snowstorm. On Monday Jared and Jordan moved to their new home during the leftovers of the storm. (And poor Jared has a broken foot that needs surgery this week, and has been in a walking boot for weeks.) While the movers trooped in and out of the house with all the stuff, I was in charge of Theo. Rick had gone over earlier to snowblow their driveway. It snowed the whole day, and the front door and back door had to be open the whole time. I wore my heated coat. Theo stood at the front window watching them bring items in, excited about seeing all their things coming to The New House. At other times, we played Airport and Airplane in his parents' big walk-in closet. This is a very happy move:  not only will they be less than 20 minutes away instead of an hour, they needed the extra room because Theo will be a big brother in August. If he has his way, the new baby will be named Crocodile.

3. I have been to my doctors--two of them in two days this month. All I can say is that it's devastating to hear two days in a row from medical professionals that there really isn't anything they or medical science can do for me. I am in a sort of dead zone of medicine. There is new research ongoing, mostly due to Long Covid, so that's at least something. But right now, aside from some stronger muscle relaxers that can help with my pain at night, there's nothing. I've learned how to rest, but it still feels like giving up to me. Even showering can wear me out. And I used to shovel the driveway and take my walk on the same day!

4. And speaking of those Rest Days, I have actually gone without my mascara on those days! I used to think that was a Venial Sin pretty much, but now, I just don't care. AND! I don't wear real clothes on those days, either. I wear a Lounge Outfit and a cardigan. I mainly do this for the technicality; no one can accuse me of wearing my jammies all day if I am officially wearing a Lounge Outfit and a cardigan (even though it looks and feels like I am doing just that). Rick enthusiastically supports this and says ridiculous things like, "You look great!" and "I tell you all the time that you don't need makeup", but the most important thing he says is, "Why bother when you're not going anywhere?" and this is the comment that really sells it for me. I mean, duh.

5. Can you nap? I mean, actually fall asleep during the day? I cannot, and I never have been able to. Obviously, it would be very helpful these days, but try as I might, I just can't. Right now, Rick is sleeping on the couch; it's 4:30 and Judge Judy is yammering, but he's sound asleep. His breathing is heavy and deep. It happened almost instantly--one moment he was talking about being sleepy, and the next he was doing it! Sleeping, just like that. I also cannot put a blanket on over my clothes. It just feels awful to me. I can, however, put a blanket over my Lounge Outfit. It's completely different somehow. (Just now, Rick said very clearly, "Should we go in and start dinner pretty soon?" FROM A DEAD SLEEP. How? I DON'T GET IT.)

Dinner. Ugh. I have been shopping for, thinking about, planning, prepping, cooking, and cleaning up after Dinners for almost FORTY-FIVE YEARS. I am starting to feel about Dinner like I do about Winter. It's almost abusive and brutal anymore. WHEN WILL IT END? How can I continue to endure it? Sigh. I might have Rick clear the ten feet of snow away from the grill and have him start making Dinner. I've had enough.

Good Riddance, January! A Celebration With Photos And A New Mantra

January is over, everyone, and I feel great about it. That month lasted approximately eleventy thousand years and was inordinately shitful. Not only did we have a Real Winter the entire month, I had to hear from all the people who were actually happy about it. There's a word for those people, but my Innate Kindness prohibits me from saying it here.

Anyway. 

I'm painfully aware that Things In General are still...Upsetting, (vast understatement) thanks to Certain People. But, to quote Maya, "What I can control is going really well." If that isn't a worthy mantra/goal statement for These Times, then I don't know what is. So I'm going to celebrate a few things right here and right now.

Celebration Photo #1:

This is a photo taken of the beautifully clear sidewalks ahead of me on my walk. Note that there is No Snow to speak of, and not because everyone shoveled. It's because it all melted away. HOORAY! Do you also see all that grass? Isn't it wonderful? I wore my sneakers! And because it was OVER FIFTY DEGREES, I also eschewed my winter coat and fleece-lined leggings and wore a bigass hooded sweatshirt and normal leggings. I walked longer and lighter and it was fantastic.

Celebration Photo #2

Sam came home one day and Zydrunas did not come down to meet him because he was upstairs in bed taking his big nap. (He's an old man now and not as vigilant a watchdog as he used to be.) When Sam went upstairs, he found Z wearing Emily's...garment. She assured me IN ALL CAPS that it is a PAIR OF SHORTS! I told her I was going to tell the entire Internet that it is a pair of her underwear. You decide. Either way, Zydrunas looks a little bit like he'd rather not have been discovered wearing them. I think Dogs are always something to celebrate! 

Celebration Photo #3

This is my car in the carwash. Before this, my shiny black car looked sad and awful. It was the same colour as the roads--whitish grey. I couldn't go to the carwash because it was -100 degrees every damn day and my car suffered. Finally, the weather broke, and Rick took me on a date to get it washed. I absolutely adore the carwash; I never stop getting a kick out of it. I am like a child, and I don't care. I'm also a cheap date.

Is everything wonderful? No, but I'm not talking about that right now. I feel good. I'm walking every day (thank you, Rick, again, for my heated coat!) and loving it. Theo is getting a third tooth and walking, talking, and using ASL, too. I'm spending the day with him on Saturday. What I can control is going really well.

What about you?

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A January Report: Winter So Far (Spoiler Alert--AUGH!)

Just me, reacting to January In General

 Northeast Ohio has remembered Who It Is, geographically speaking, and we are back in the Frozen Tundra of a real winter instead of the El Nino Sissy Winters we'd been having. Temperatures have been in the 20s, and I feel like I haven't seen grass in aeons. I don't even bother chasing squirrels away from my feeders because I feel so sorry for them (but aren't they supposed to be hibernating or eating all that stuff they stashed away in the fall?). Little sparrows sit all puffed up and miserable in my barberry bush whilst my fat and lazy cats, all warm and comfy, stare at them from the back of the couch.

It's too snowy and icy for me to take my walk. We shovel our sidewalk, but we are in the distinct minority in our neighbourhood. This morning I watched in horror as the skinny guy across the street fell hard on his back as he cleared his driveway. He tried so valiantly not to fall, but it was hopeless. He scrambled to his feet quickly and resumed his labours. I was shocked. This man is so terribly thin and frail-looking that I expected him to literally break apart. He finished up with no further incident except a few slippery missteps. 

I went out an hour or so later to shovel out our driveway and sidewalks. Rick had used the snowblower a few days ago for the worst of it, so I didn't have but a light coating to dispatch. I hate how the snowblower makes our driveway look; it doesn't scrape down to the bare concrete, so it's not nice and neat and clean. I want my driveway to be the envy of the entire street. Because I...need a real hobby?

Anyway, it was good to be outside a bit and be active even though the wind hurt my face and my thumbs froze. I calculated whether or not it was worth it to try and take a short walk in my snowboots, but decided against it. Not worth the risk. 

We're not warming up anytime soon. I might have to go to our now defunct mall and walk there. I'm not excited about that. It's depressing, and it sort of gives me the creeps. Still, it's better than nothing, and I'm really feeling the need to walk briskly and get moving. And be Outside. 

It's befuddling to me, always, when I hear people say they love winter and love snow. I've lived in northeast Ohio all my life, and I've hated snow and winter all my life. Even as a kid, I dreaded wintertime. Snow is such a barrier and an inconvenience. It makes everything harder. 

(It even made getting my hair cut harder. On Friday we drove through bands of snow and almost zero visibility. Rick, however, is intrepid. I got my hair shampooed, cut, styled/blowdried, and with a Happy New Year tip, I dropped 25 bucks at Susie's:  "Nance, are you sure? Wow! Thank you very much!" Susie is the gift that keeps on giving.)

Lots of winter remains. My SAD light has been deployed and so has my snow shovel. What I really need is a January thaw so that I can deploy my walking shoes, too. 

In Which I Lighten Up My Life And Get A Little Airheaded

 Let me just say this:  I'm feeling delightfully lighter in February. After 48 straight days of Absolutely No Sunshine Whatsoever, we've been treated to several bright, happy days of sun. Yesterday and today, I took my daily walks without a coat or a jacket in 60 degree temperatures. Yes, it will all come crashing down next week, but until then, I'm basking in this Joy. 

And fresh air! My windows are open! Can you even imagine that--in Northeast Ohio! in February! What luck!

Another reason I'm feeling lighter is that this morning, I watched as a volunteer from the Vietnam Vets of America came to my home and picked up bags of clothes and several boxes of dishes, shoes, purses, and two pieces of furniture from my porch. All that stuff is now G O N E from my home. Hooray for decluttering and giving to a good cause.

Now let's see if I can declutter my head a bit and dump off a few things here.

1.  This ad was in the Cleveland Plain Dealer a little while ago and hurt my eyes and my feelings:

First of all, absolutely nothing in this estate sale interests me, thanks to the ad's key words and phrases:  Every room full (they were hoarders); CB radios (no one ever left the house or had contact with the outside modern world); precious moments (dust bunnies galore and stuck in the 80s); bennie babies (Precious Moments turned out NOT to be the moneymaker they thought, so they glommed onto these, which tanked even worse, and, again, dust); seasonal (my experience with this is that many Collector-type people also collect tons of Xmas and holiday tchotchkes which also sit around collecting dust; these types of items do not sell, even at garage sales, trust me). 

Also, let's talk about The Spelling now, shall we? Obviously, it's Beanie Babies, not bennie babies, like some sort of homage to Bennie and the Jets or the drug benzedrine. And it's collectibles--the noun form--not collectables--the adjective form. An easy way to remember is "if it's an Investment, it's a collectIble." Sigh. I know, I know, I should stop reading the Classifieds.

2. On my walk today, in addition to a dandelion, I saw this and it made me smile:

I apologize for the quality of this photo. I couldn't get very close because this is not a friendly cat. It's also Not Their Cat. Did you think I was just posting this for the Irony?

This is a neighbourhood stray who hangs around on various porches. It's the first time I've seen it on this particular porch, however, and I'm rather surprised. This is where a St. Bernard lives. There must be something really good inside that Chewy box. You know what they say:  no risk, no reward.

3.  Finally, this conversation occurred on Monday night:

Nance:  I'm exhausted. I was so busy all day. (proceeds to list all chores accomplished that day)

Rick:  Wow. Well, thank you. That was a lot.

Nance: Oh, and by the way, I barely had enough battery left to finish using the leaf blower on the porch. Then I saw the charger wasn't even plugged in. What's up with that?

Rick:  You what?

Nance: I used the leaf blower to blow all the peanut shells and sunflower seed detritus off the front porch. It's ridiculous out there, you know? And the battery went dead, and I had to put it in the charger, but first of all, the charger was crammed behind stuff on that shelf, and then it wasn't even plugged in.

Rick:  I unplugged it.

Nance:  But why?

Rick: (carefully, looking right at her) Because I assumed that we wouldn't be needing A LEAF BLOWER in the WINTER.

Nance:  (light finally goes on) Oh! 

So tell me--What's lightening up your life in February so far? (And do you have the Winter Dumbs like me? Sigh.)

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Some Things--If They Must Happen--Should Never Happen Indoors

 

This morning as I was reading the newspapers and my ever-inspiring Google News Feed, I came upon an article predicting the US winter weather for 2023-24. According to Science, my area of the country will have a warmer than normal winter with a lot less snow.

Hooray, hooray, hooray!

That is my kind of winter, and I could not be happier. Bring it on, Science, and let's hope you're right! 

I'll never understand the Kind Of People who say things like

1. I love snow.

2. Let's go skiing.

3. I hope we have a White Christmas.

4. Snow is so pretty.

5. I just love to go tobogganing.

These people are, to be polite, crazy. Have they ever driven in snow? Cleaned it off their car? Shovelled it? Gotten stuck in it? Had it ruin/cancel their plans? Walked in slush or salt that ruins your shoes/boots? Had to clear snow/ice off your roof? Gotten tired of ice, snow, and melted same tracked all over the place? Does snow on Christmas really improve it in any way? 

 My mother likes to say Olde Fashionde things about Snow and Winter to me all the Tyme. She claims that we need Snow, that it's bad if we don't get enough. I tell her that there are enormous areas of the entire world that never, ever get Snow and they do just fine. She shakes her head sadly at me and tells me that I don't understand. And then she says some stuff about Nature and I give up entirely.

Truly. I give up on SnowLoving People. Like the people at this place, which I heard about on TV this morning while Rick watched the local news. The reporter was very excited to tell us that during their FROST experience, the attendees will be snowed upon INDOORS. With real snow.

LIKE THAT IS A GOOD THING.

I was horrified. Even if I wore my battery-operated heated coat, there would be no way in hell I'd go to be snowed upon inside a building. That, dear friends, is my nightmare.

Catching Up Old-Style

 

Oh, hello. 

It seems we have some Catching Up to do. Let's get started.

*I Am Old And They Are Liars:  For 30+ years I wore high heels with pointy toes for 8 hours a day. My students and my colleagues appreciated (and envied) my shoe wardrobe. I seldom wore flats or sneakers, ever, even in my off hours. Fast forward to now, 12 years later:  I wear flat shoes with good support and a wide toe box like all the Experts recommend in order to Take Good Care Of My Feet. And for the First Time Ever I had to buy a corn removal product at the grocery store like an old person. Adding to my outrage was the fact that I had no one tangible upon which to focus my anger and resentment. How I'd love to go back to wearing my wonderful, beautiful career shoes in some audacious display of self-righteousness! Alas, however, I'd look ridiculous since I am constantly in leggings, skinny jeans, and comfy shirts.

*Am I Old Or Not And What Is She Trying To Say?  I've written here before about my funny grocery store and its astonishing Closeouts section where customers can buy anything from a Ben Franklin bobblehead to Subway restaurant visors to a bathroom vanity cabinet (no top). A couple weeks ago, I found a New York Times page-a-day crossword 2023 calendar for 25 cents. It also includes a free one month subscription to NYT Games. I grabbed it immediately. My favourite cashier, Sunshine, was ringing me out and she couldn't get over the price. "This is 25 cents?!" she said. "That's crazy!" I was bagging my stuff (reusable bags, of course) and agreed, "Right? I stood there for a minute trying to think of anyone else I could buy one for. It's such a great deal." Sunshine unintentionally clouded my skies with this remark, "Well, any old person, really, would love it." Thank goodness this was not the same day I had to buy my corn pads, or I probably would have smacked her.

*Speaking Of Old People, This Weather Alert From My Mother, Age 92:  Here in NEO, we've had an extremely mild winter. As in, I've only shovelled snow once SO FAR. Oh, we've had a bit of snow here and there, but nowhere near where we normally would be.   Nowhere near. And I've seen lots of robins around, along with my daffodils poking up several inches and the silver maples already budding red and getting their fringe. This, according to my mother, is Bad. "It's not good for this area of the country not to have snow this time of year. It's not good for the trees or the birds or anyone else. It's bad; it's not natural." I'm sure you all remember her Dire Warnings back in October of a Hard Winter. True, we still have March and at least part of April to go. And we did have a nasty snowstorm in May that broke down so many lovely blooming crabapples. But right now, I'm inclined to say YOU BLEW IT AGAIN, MOM.

*But Some Things Never Get Old:  I'm still taking tremendous satisfaction from quite a few Simple things, like my daily walks, which are full of happy encounters with neighborhood dogs; reading good books, most recently The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams (highly recommended for any lover of words); a hot cup of coffee and Biscoff in the afternoons while watching Judge Judy or, more recently, Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee with Jerry Seinfeld. (The latter is a show on Netflix which I'm completely charmed by. I love hearing people talk passionately about their work, and I love listening to the perspectives of these comedians--how they see things so differently from the rest of us.) And I find constant Joy in our family group text. I'm crazy about my kids; there, I said it.

How are you feeling about your age these days? Lied to? Almost insulted? Silly? Grateful? Thanks for waiting, and chat me up in Comments.

In Which I Give March The Boot And Discuss Its Fallout

March is blustering off, and I say Good Riddance. You were a bit of a bitch, March, and I didn't appreciate it. At all. About the best thing I can say for you is You Were Not February. Now get moving and don't even think about giving April any advice.

Over the weekend, we had two inches of heavy, wet snow dumped on us very unceremoniously. It was not the Dept.'s fault; we had our snow shovels prominently displayed next to the door as custom demands in NEO until mid-April at least. We know how this works. No, Dear Readers, I blame these people:

Taken on March 24th

Do you see the dead, deflated Christmas Thing there flanked by blooming daffodils? On March 24th? That is, right there, the reason we got hit with shitful snow last weekend--Climatological Confusion caused by Seasonal Dissonance. These individuals have a lot to answer for. A. Lot.

Because of that lousy snow, I forced myself to take the whole day Saturday (after shovelling) and complete some projects. One of those was The Dreaded Cat Brushing. The cats have become so belligerent about it that I now shut myself and one of them at a time in the small hallway. All the doors to the rooms are also shut. I sit on the floor and rotate like a child on a Sit 'n' Spin, wielding a brush, taking swipes as a cat deigns to pass. During a break in the action, I paused to take a photo of my new shoes--bought at Target on clearance for only nine bucks:

Remember when vegan leather was just vinyl?

I sent it to Jared and Sam, bragging about my bargain.

 

Me:  These are my 9$ shoes!

Jared: What a bargain!

Sam:  Why are you on the floor?

Now that I look at the picture, my ankles look terrible and hairy. They are not, honest. Just in need of lotion.

Finally, one last photo. March has been cruel, and my dear BFF Leanne in Maryland knows it. She decided to send me my birthday present very early, and I am so glad she did. My tears were happy and grateful ones when I opened it. It's a day late for Tiny Needle Tuesday, but she made me this beautiful sampler. We share its sentiment so very, very deeply:

Sorry it's skewed. It's so hard to photograph glass in any light.

It's not March's fault that my friends live so far away, but it did nothing to help it, either. So, screw you, March. Hit the road. You were even devastating for my fantasy basketball team (SIX players on the Injured Reserved at once! Steph Curry out. Damontas Sabonis out for five games in a row. I can't even go on.) 

Join me in saying So Long to March. Let's have High Hopes for April. Certainly more Christmas decorations will be gone...won't they? (Tell me what I want to hear in Comments.)

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Snow Business: I Have A Problem

Greetings from the snowy depths of NEO in February. We have had snow on the ground here for approximately eleventy thousand of February's twenty-something days so far, most of which have been below freezing. And cloudy. If you listen closely, you can hear the screaming inside my head.

Because it is far too treacherous to take my daily walks, I happily shovel the snow from our driveway, sidewalk, front porch, and walkway. As I said in a previous post, it offers many rewards besides good exercise. Only when it is a particularly heavy or six-inches-all-at-once kind of snow am I not out there shovelling.

There is, however, a Dark and Unseemly Side to my snow shovelling habit. My sense of satisfaction at a job well done has turned into a fetish, a compulsion almost. My driveway must not just be shovelled. It must be completely clear of snow, scraped clean of ice, and a paragon of snow removal. It must be the Example By Which All Other Driveways Everywhere Are Measured.

Let me illustrate what I'm talking about by showing you a few photos. Here is what a normal person's snowpile looks like along the side of her driveway.

This is my neighbor's, two doors down.

See how the snowpile is just snow? There are some clumps here and there from a snowblower. For those of you who don't often see snow, you might even think it "looks pretty." (I'm trying hard not to hold that against you.)

On the very same day, here is the snowpile alongside my driveway after I had been outside shovelling.

Not so pretty, is it?

I cannot Just Shovel. Part of the problem is that my driveway gets driven on early in the morning when Rick leaves for work. This packs the snow down into tire tracks. Sam also comes for lunch, and if it's still snowing, his big truck tires pack the snow down even more. But once my shovel hits bare concrete one time, the Sickness takes hold, and I can't stop. Pretty soon, I'm scraping and chipping, and my snowpile looks like this:

Isn't it beautiful and awful at the same time?

Once those big pieces start coming up, I'm hooked. I'll stay out there until my shoulders are on fire and my hands and feet are numb and dead. Rick's at work; there's no one to stop me, to appeal to what's left of my sense of Reason. I'm on a Mission, and that Mission is a completely clear driveway. Even if there is a forecast for more snow that night--or even that same afternoon!--I do it anyway. I have no idea why.

I have come in from a bout of my Crazed Shovelling and gone straight into a hot shower, my whole body aching, only to get out and seek the comfort of a heating pad on my back and shoulders. More than once, my son Sam has caught me at my task, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Today, Rick called me from work specifically to tell me NOT TO EVEN ATTEMPT TO GO OUT AND SCRAPE ANY ICE FROM THE DRIVEWAY. I was mildly irritated; it was definitely something I had planned to do today. (There's no way a shovel would do it, but we have a different tool in the garage that would be perfect.)

Honestly, though, look at this stuff. Look at the layer of ice on the bottom and how compressed the snow is. That stuff used to be on my driveway!

Good riddance!

Am I alone in this? I definitely am the only Afflicted one in my family. No one else is so crazed about snow removal/driveway grooming in Winter. I know how nuts it is. Help me through it in Comments.

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The Cheap Therapy Of Snow Shovelling

Many of us are locked in the latest Polar Vortex--or one of them, now that there are actually three daughter vortices--and the extreme cold and waves of snow are forcing us to stay indoors, avoiding much travel. I'm also playing Nurse to Rick, who had spinal surgery on 18 January. He's a Very Good Patient, but until he is allowed to bend, twist, lift, or basically do Normal Life Things again completely, I am pretty much Everything Person. (Assisted very ably now and again by Sam, who stops by and is On Call, should we need anything, like the Good Boy he is. Jared, who lives farther away, is the Backup.)

I just came in from finishing up the latest round of snow shovelling, which is my best source of real physical activity these days. I have to say that I am always surprised and gratified at just how much any outdoor exercise improves my overall mood and sense of wellbeing almost automatically.

And I especially do like shovelling snow, oddly enough, and this comes from a longtime Hater Of Winter. Maybe it's because it gives me power over two things I so dislike, Winter and Being Cold. These things often hold sway over me, both physically and emotionally. But when I go outside and shovel, it's like I'm bossing them around; I'm refusing to succumb to Winter and the Cold.

I also think a great deal of it is that I can see steady progress as I work. The shovel leaves clear swaths of driveway and sidewalk. It's obvious where I've been and how much I have yet to do. There's also a definite end, an absolute finish to the work. When the driveway and sidewalk are clear, I'm done!  I can put away my shovel and go in.  In my career as a teacher, that wasn't the case. Even when I was done teaching a particular novel or unit and gave the final test, I still had stragglers--kids who were absent and had to make up assignments, quizzes, projects, and tests. They had deadlines, hypothetically, but you'd be surprised at how much leeway there was, especially if parents got involved.  I was forever hauling out folders of answer keys, makeup versions of tests, moving backwards into my gradebook, trying always in vain to get everyone (for once) at the same starting/ending point. I even had kids trying to make stuff up after the final grades were in and the school year had ended! Trust me, even when the Fat Lady sang, it was never really over.

The rewards of snow shovelling are so tangible. A clear driveway, obviously; a job done; that feeling of accomplishment as I look down that stretch of clear concrete; stepping into the house and feeling the warmth envelop me and see it steam up my sunglasses; the satisfaction of shedding each layer of coat, mittens, headband, boots; and finally, sitting down with the contentment of a job well done and done all by myself.

I hate winter with a Passion, believe me. Actually, more accurately, I hate Snow with a passion. I could live with Winter were it not for Snow. I never find it pretty, ever. It's dangerous at its worst and an inconvenience at its best. But I try to make the best of it.

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A Winter's Tale: Sadly, A True Story

Even with large doses of Vitamin D, I still fight through Seasonal Affective Disorder during NEO's interminable winters. I employ lots of different strategies with varying success. Trying to stay physically and mentally active can be frustrating, and I often find myself wondering if I'm losing the battle.

Like The Day I Lost My Chapstick.

This winter has been taxing on my skin, hair, eyes, and lips. I'm trying everything to stay hydrated, and I've never gone through lip balm like this before. I've taken to having three tubes at the ready: one in my purse, one on my nightstand, and one in the living room on the table next to my chair and couch corner. I've finally found one that works great for me, and I'm hanging onto it like Grim Death because I know damn well it is Destined To Be Discontinued like every single other product I have ever loved and gotten attached to.

But I digress.

Last week, I must have retrieved my Livingroom Lip Balm eleventy hundred times from the floor (and under furniture) because it suddenly became a Cat Toy for Marlowe, the grey cat who, every once in a while, knocks stuff down that belongs only to me. It was largely okay, until the day that I really needed my chapstick. And couldn't find it. I had been folding laundry, and I reached over for it, and...not there. I looked over on the table. Nope.

With a heavy sigh, I took Marlowe's name in vain and got down on the floor. I searched under the couch. Nothing. I grabbed my phone for a flashlight and looked again. I looked under both chairs, the huge ottoman, and the coffee table. Nothing. By this time, I was just outright aggravated. Because now I knew that it wasn't Marlowe's fault anymore. It was my own. I had probably grabbed it and put it in a coat pocket when I went out for a walk or something.

In the closet I went through the pockets of both coats I wore--twice. "God. Damn. It," I said, carefully raising the level of my voice after each word. I dropped to my knees on the floor of the closet and looked around. It wasn't there.

I was outraged. I was incredulous. My lips were chapped! This was becoming a Sanity Challenge, and I had to win.

I emptied my purse onto the table in the breakfast nook. Not there. I rooted through the drawer in my bedside table. Not there. (But did I use the lip balm in that drawer? HELL NO! I AM NOT A QUITTER! I AM NOT THE KIND OF PERSON WHO BOWS TO EXPEDIENCE IN TIMES OF CRISIS!  I HAVE INTEGRITY!) Next up, my clothes closet: all garments with pockets yielded nothing. Ditto the dresser drawers.

Throughout most of this search, I was talking to myself--loudly--but not in encouraging terms. "Where in the hell IS it? I only put it ONE PLACE! This could not BE any more FU**ING ridiculous! I am losing my goddam mind!" Finally, I admitted defeat. I dragged my shameful, chapped-lipped, weary sadness into the living room and plopped on the couch like the addle-brained loser I was. Piper immediately jumped into my lap. I felt somewhat comforted, despite the shower of hair that came with him.

I was exhausted. I leaned over and grabbed my huge tumbler of ice water and gratefully drank several gulps. When I turned to put the water glass back on the coaster, I saw it, my chapstick. It had been there, hidden by my bigass waterglass the whole time.

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Whoever Said Money Can't Buy Happiness Probably Didn't Feed His Pets Blue Buffalo And Have S.A.D.

Let me warn you now: my brain has turned to Polar Mush, and I take no responsibility for the coherence of this post. Yesterday, I literally Gave Up at 3:30 PM when I realized that my furnace, even after running continually, still had not attained its Goal Temperature. Which meant that I was not going to attain mine, either. I hurriedly (and shivering-ly) finished prepping dinner, made stuff for Rick's lunches for the remainder of the week, and then zoomed into the bedroom where I put on my fleece jammies with the feet attached. This roused the attention of both cats, whose bliss was complete once they saw me grab my grandmother's flannel-backed comforter and hit the couch with my pillow and remote.

When I Give Up, I Mean Business.

I'm tired of Winter. I'm sick of being trapped inside by single-digit wind chills and icy walkways. Snow is not pretty if it's been sitting out there for weeks making everything so much more difficult and being tracked inside making things wet. (I don't think it's ever, ever "pretty.") The glare off that stuff is impressive when the sun shines; I don't need to put any lights on in the house all day long. It's hell when I have a headache.

I know: bitch, bitch, bitch. And I was going to behave myself and count my Blessings forever. I still do, but there's no halo on my head or wings hiding under my sweater. This isn't the Dept. of Pollyanna.

But here's a Happiness! And like many True Happinesses, it caught me completely by surprise and came in an unassuming, ordinary conveyance.

Rick came home from work and retrieved the mail from the porch. Sometimes I dread this--particularly when I'm crabby or have just cleaned up the living room from all detritus--because he will often toss any and all junk mail addressed to me on my lap, even though he knows it belongs in the recycle bin. The rest of it goes onto the coffee table, waiting.  It just makes more work for me, and I don't even bother to open it. Or, he'll toss financial statements with my name on them to me, again knowing that he is the one who deals with them, not me.

But I digress.

Rick got the mail and tossed me an envelope. I rolled my eyes and then looked at the return address. It was from Blue Buffalo Litigation, Settlement Department. "Oh, hey!" I said. "I forgot about joining this Blue Buffalo pet food class action lawsuit. Geeze, it was such a long time ago. It was something about...I don't even remember. I read about it online and filed online, too." As I was talking, I was opening the envelope and taking out a check.

And then my eyes popped out of my head, fell on the carpet, became covered with cat hair, and Rick had to go rinse them off before he could stick them back into my face, where my mouth was hanging open like a drawbridge welcoming the procession of the Knights Of The Roundtable returning from a quest.

Because the check was for $108.69.

I got OVER ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS OF FREE MONEY IN THE MAIL. From a class action lawsuit. It's incredible.

I've joined lots of class action lawsuits that I've been eligible for in the past, and the most I've gotten has been maybe fifteen bucks. I could not get over it.  Almost as good as seeing a patch of grass in my yard...someday.

Warmed me right up.

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A New Year's Story (Somewhere, Charles Dickens Is Smiling)

Last Thursday, after grocery shopping with a lighter heart since Things Are Back To Normal, I was steering my Prius back home, barely grimacing at That Horrid Taco's Sign. It was so cold, but at least it was sunny, and I had a car full of groceries, good news from the doctor the day before, and dinner already planned in my head. It was such a Good Day!

I almost didn't see the man standing on the street corner at the busy three-way stop. He was muffled in a scarf and hat, and he was wearing a brown canvas coat that didn't look very warm. As I came up to the intersection, he turned around, and I saw he was holding a sign:
 PLEASE HELP
 HOMELESS AND HUNGRY.

The snow around the sidewalks where he was standing was piled up about fourteen inches, and in the extreme cold, had turned to ice. There were deep frozen ruts about a foot into the street, making his chosen spot a precarious one. It was also not a very smart one. Traffic coming from one direction had no stop at all, and in order for him to reach any car that did manage to stop and block this very busy intersection, he had to navigate terrible terrain. Had he merely moved to a small parking lot across from the Taco's sign fifty feet away, he'd have had a much easier time of it.

Traffic nudged me, and I had to move along. But instead of turning left at the light a block ahead, I turned right, circled back, and came around again. I was lucky--traffic had slowed, and I could stay in my lane to call him over. He was jumping up and down a bit in his tennis shoes, trying to get warm. I honked my horn a little over the noise of a loud truck idling nearby to get his attention. He turned around, and I leaned over in the seat toward my open passenger's side window.

He carefully stepped toward my car, picking his path through the icy mounds and slippery ruts. I wasn't sure if I should look at him: would it embarrass him? I glanced at him briefly and glimpsed some of the tiredest eyes I think I have ever seen. I could see that he was young, and I felt a surge of pity. "Here," I said, as I offered him a ten, "I--"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, ma'am, and God Bless! God Bless you, ma'am!" His blue eyes glistened and he had a West Virginian accent. His cheeks were red and patched with cold, white places.

I became almost overwhelmed with...what? Embarrassment? Shame? "I hope things turn around for you soon," I said. I checked my mirrors and drove on into traffic, headed home, thinking about my December worries and how they stacked up--or, more accurately, didn't--to this man's.

To many, many people's.

When the Universe strives so mightily to Teach Me A Lesson, it is important that I not miss the opportunity to Learn It. This young man on the corner was sort of my New Year's Jacob Marley, but I won't need to be introduced to the rest of the cast.

Message Received.

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A Bunch Of Stuff Off The Top Of My Head

Obviously, I'm in a Writing Slough Of Sloth. If I wait until I have Something Valuable To Say, this spot will collect cyber-cobwebs and digital dustbunnies. So! I'm going to just reach into my head, grab whatever I find, and see what we think.

Here we go.

Wake Me Up When: 1. Winter is really over. 2. republicans knock it the hell off/are extinct. 3. He's arrested and frog-marched out of the White House with his staff. 4. Wine is the cure for migraine. 5. Joe Biden is President*.
*Since we can't have Hillary, because Woman. (And actual Fake News. Thanks, Facebook.)

Either No One Ever Told Me Or I Was Young And Therefore Stupid: Holy Crap, what is the deal with suddenly becoming as dry as those bleached bones in the desert? I used to have oily skin, oily hair, plenty of spit, and the ability to wear contacts and grow my nails long, longer, longest. I had to wash my hair every day--hell, when I was a teenager, I would sometimes use dishwashing liquid! Now that I am technically Too Old to be termed even Of A Certain Age, I can go two or three days before my hair becomes oily or flat. My contacts are a misery; my skin is taut and painful this winter. My hands are strangers to me, with their ragged cuticles and peely nails kept short by necessity. Did anyone ever foretell this Sadness? Probably I laughed merrily, tossed my brilliant locks, and waved them off with my long-nailed hand. What a heartless bitch I was, surely.

When Your Husband Is A Carpenter And You Are A Knitter: As you, Dear Readers, well know, I accompany Rick on many of his Outings to stores For Him, such as Home Depot and Harbor Freight and the like. It's not always All Bad, as there are more than a few things there which are Multipurpose and Handy for other things, and some of the stores, like Rural King, even have baby ducks, which are the most charming animals in the world (possibly). After seeing me linger over one Handy Item, my husband bought me one as a gift, so it could become my Knitting Caddy. Here it is, and I love it:

It has a place for everything! Eight side pockets hold my stitch markers, spare glasses, lotion, stitch counter, tapestry needles, scissors, you name it. Deep end pockets hold a small tablet and pen, pattern, and circ needle packet. A loop on the end even holds a large safety pin, used to hold stitches when I make my charity bears. And, as a bonus, when I hold it on my lap and prop my elbows on it, it keeps my knitting at eye level and my shoulders squared, just what the physical therapist ordered to combat my cervical myofasciitis. (Bonus: it is, apparently, an Excellent Cat-Chin-Scratching-Edifice.)

Everyone Stop:  1. Quoting Twitter as a News Source. 2. Overusing the word amazing (still!). 3. Telling me that Spring Officially Starts Next Week. 4. Saying Daylight SavingS Time (THERE IS NO 'S').  5. Putting up holiday decorations if you cannot take them down in a timely manner.

Okay.  Your turn.  I can't wait for you to peel off a little brain banana or two in Comments or chat about mine.



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E Is For Endurance

Here's a short list of a few things which tax my Endurance. They require that I Soldier On gamely and mightily, often times with more Good Nature than I truly feel.

1. My Hair
2. Presidential Primary Season
3. Chapped Lips
4. Rick's Windshield Wiper Behaviour
5. Downton Abbey's Final Season

Please find something to grip tightly and To Steady Yourself, and allow me to Explain.

1. Something has happened to my hair in the past year or two, rendering it limply soft and Completely Impossible. There is no shampoo, no gel, no spray, no hair mucilage invented that can make my hair do a damn thing. Additionally, it is (cue horror movie music) Growing Out, which means it is Completely Awful and an Endurance Test each time I try to, oh, let's say...do any damn thing "with" or "to" it. Thank you to anyone who is crying empathetically whilst reading this.

2. We are now in Year Eleventy of the Presidential Primary Season, and I could throw up. Again. After ramming DTrump down our collective gullets for months and months, pollsters and pundits and news anchors are now gleefully performing gory post mortems on his Primary Corpse. After one primary. In Iowa. Listen, I'd be thrilled if we really could lay TheDonald to rest for real, but come on. One primary. And it was a caucus, which is like a coffee klatch, really. Is it okay if, oh, I don't know, THE REST OF THE COUNTRY HAS AN ELECTION? WITH REAL VOTES/BALLOTS AND SUPER DELEGATES AND STUFF? When is the country going to finally have one primary election date and stop this staggered primary voting? It's insane, and more than we should ever Endure.

3. This has been the mildest winter in years (NEO had temps in the 60's yesterday!), but I am Enduring the worst case of Chapped Lips in decades. Nance, you say, have you tried Burt's Bees, Carmex, Vaseline, olive oil, Blistex in a million varieties, and scrubbing at them with a washcloth? Oh, ha ha; it is to laugh. But of course I have. I have even tried the Super Duper All-Natural Remedy of Plain Honey. Here is what is working the best: None of them. None of them is working.

4. I am going to stop riding in any car with Rick when it rains because he cannot handle the windshield wipers. As soon as it stops raining, or if the rain lessens, that does not matter in the least; the wipers must still be employed continuously as before, even if they are screeching across a completely dry window. This is His Rule, apparently, and it is Consistently Applied. I have tried to Endure this with Extreme Patience And Silence. Believe me; I have. It is Impossible. After many minutes, I completely Lose It. "PLEASE TURN OFF THE WIPERS OR I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF/JUMP OUT OF THIS CAR/SCREAM MY BLOODY HEAD OFF!", is what I usually say if I don't simply reach over in a lather and shut them off myself.

5. How can PBS and creator/writer Julian Fellowes do this to me? That this is Downton Abbey's final season is too much to Endure! Why do all of My Shows end up gone but terrible and awful shows seem to go on forever and forever and forever? I've become a DA junkie. I've started watching each episode twice a week: once on Sundays, then again midweek when it's offered, savouring each little character moment, each costume, each British-accented word. Oh, how I'll miss it. And nothing--nothing--can take its place.

Oh, darlings.  What do you think?  And what are you currently Enduring?

In Which We Celebrate, For Things Do Get Better

Oh Frabjous Day! Callooh! Callay! Today NEO is basking in the sunshiny Upper Forties and the huge icicles have departed my gutters (or eavestroughs, as some locals here still insist upon calling them). I have seen wee margins of grass here and there as the monoliths of snow pull away from the sidewalks and driveways heated from the sun. And, quite importantly, today I wore only my lined raincoat to the grocery store.

So many lovely, lovely things are making me happy right now, and it seems like So Very Long since something has, so I would like to share.

My Latest Happies

1. My hair
2. Our Canada jaunt
3. The weather
4. President Obama's "Bloody Sunday" speech
5. A license plate I saw

Let me just tell you about those, and then you can chat about your Latest Happies in Comments.

1. My Hair is a constant barometer of my wellbeing. Last year, I decided to join the Pixie Movement (albeit late) and I was alternately pleased and horrified. Very sensibly, my friend Shirley over at gfeeasily said, "I think people are either Long Hair People or Short Hair People and just aren't happy being the other one." Well, my friends, I am a Long Hair Person. Period. My hair is finally grown out to a point where it is manageable and I no longer cry every other day because I Just Don't Know What To Do With It Anymore. The next time I say One Word about getting a haircut, I want every single person in the world to smack me hard. Thank you in advance.

2. Rick and I both knew we needed a change of scenery and that, despite the weather being identical to ours, the wine and comforts of Niagara-on-the-Lake would help us tremendously. So true. We had a lovely time this past weekend and brought home just under four cases, one being a gorgeous buttery Chardonnay. Our innkeepers took us as their guests to a winery party, and we had a very good time with tank tastings and nibblies. We even visited the newest winery, just opened, and because it is such a slow time, got a private tour. While in Canada, we politely asked that they keep their weather to themselves, and they said they would try.

3. What a lift to have temperatures higher than the single digits and teens! We are seeing the forties and maybe even a fifty or two in the next week or so. And sun...its effect on my mood and energy is incalculable. I know from living in NEO my whole life that this is merely a break in the action: our winter is far from over. But if we could get a full thaw and have all the snow gone, that would be terrific. I'm anxious to get back down to the lake and see how things are doing. It cannot be lake season soon enough for me.

4. I was in Canada for President Obama's delivery of his speech at the Edmund Pettus bridge in Selma. When I got home, I had the full text in my inbox, and I read it. I did not get far before my eyes were full of tears. I am always happy when words can move me, and I am always happy when our President makes reference to great writers and great women. I burst into tears especially when he called on the great Walt Whitman, the chronicler of the American Journey, and paraphrased a line that I so often spoke in awe in my own classroom. "I am large, I contain multitudes." Politics aside, it is a beautiful speech. Please click here and read it in full. (Note: Time magazine's transcript is NOT the full transcript, their claim to the contrary.)

5. On our way home yesterday we drove through Cleveland, and I caught a glimpse of a license plate framed by rainbow-coloured peace signs. It read GETZBTR. All I could see of its male driver was a pale hand and sunglasses as we raced past the frozen lake headed into downtown. I hope that the license plate meant GETS BETTER, and that it was part of the campaign IT GETS BETTER, which was started to give hope to LGBT youth. Vanity plates cost extra and have to be renewed every year, so it would be a personal expense if he were spreading that message. I choose to think that he was. Cleveland hosted the Gay Games last year, and they were a rousing success. Ohio is still a DOMA state, and the governor and legislature are republicans. One look at Ohio's district map shows you how horribly gerrymandered it is, but attitudes are changing. The DOMA was voted by the citizenry, true, but so much outside money influenced it that it was criminal. But that license plate...my heart lightened instantly.

What has lightened your heart lately? Tell us and make us all smile.

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Of Firemen And Flying And Snowfall: February IS The Cruellest Month

Scene opens on a living room. Nance and Rick are sitting on the couch watching a news story about a group of college students who are working as volunteers in one residential community. They are shovelling out fire hydrants which have been buried under icy four-foot drifts of plowed snow, presenting a very real danger in case of fire.

Rick: (outraged) That's just ridiculous. Why would you let that happen?
Nance:  Firemen have a lot of downtime. Why isn't there a team of firefighters going around, shovelling out those hydrants? Lots of them are just lolling around the firehouse playing cards and inventing chili recipes.
Rick: (if possible, even more outraged) Nance, they can't do that! They'd have to send out the whole truck with all the guys. What if there was a fire someplace? Those guys would be out someplace shovelling out a hydrant, and the rest of them would have to wait or go pick them up. It just doesn't work like that.
Nance: (losing interest now) I guess. The whole thing is a mess.
Rick: It should work like the emergency exit on an airplane. If someone wants to buy a house on a lot with a fire hydrant, they should have to agree to shovel the snow around it in the winter. You know, like the way the flight attendant asks you if you agree to be in charge of the emergency exit in case of a sudden landing and all that. If the homeowner can't handle it, then that's it--no sale.
Nance: (perking up) That is genius! It's perfect.
Rick: Have you ever sat in the emergency exit aisle?
Nance: Heck yes. And I was fully prepared to haul that door off and take control. Absolutely.
Rick: Did you ever see anyone refuse?
Nance: Yes, a frail little old lady, and I was glad that she did. We would never have gotten out alive. And I once saw a woman with a kid sit there briefly, and I knew there was no way in hell that was good for me. She'd get so wrapped up in finding a sippy cup or a blankie that we'd all die.
Rick: This is what I'm talking about. Only responsible people should have these hydrants in their yard. It's better for everyone.

End scene.

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February Survival Guide: Pick A Holiday And Celebrate The Hell Out Of It

katiebarnes.com

"February is merely as long as is needed to pass the time until March."--Dr. J.R. Stockton

Certainly Dr. J.R. Stockton could benefit from a little history lesson highlighting the Romans, namely King Numa Pompilius and Julius Caesar, but let's give him the benefit of the doubt and say that he was being snidely metaphorical. A lot of us know that March is just as bad, climatologically speaking, as February, with the added bonus of being even longer. We might say, even, "March is merely as long as is needed to pass the time until April."

But I digress. (Big surprise.)

My point, and I do have one, is this: February has some Image Problems, and being The Home Of Valentine's Day doesn't solve them; ask almost any male in A Relationship. Thankfully, I have an Excellent Readership here at the Dept., and because of their inspiration, we can not only help February, but also survive it.

Dear Reader Shirley from gfeeasily commented earlier that she is "one of those girls who just throws everything in the mix and cheers for it all", a trait that I find both useful and endearing. It sounded somehow familiar to me, and then I realized why. It complements perfectly a sentiment that Dear Reader J. over at Thinking About has shared often: "Life can be really hard sometimes, so celebrate when you can."

To that end, I present to you a list of Holidays in February far beyond what we usually associate with the month. Here is where you can discover the Origin of each of the Holidays, but personally, I don't care. To paraphrase Shirley and J., February sucks, so I'm just going to mix them all up and celebrate whatever the hell I want.

February is also known as:

American Heart Month
An Affair to Remember Month
Black History Month
Canned Food Month
Creative Romance Month
Great American Pie Month
National Cherry Month
National Children’s Dental Health Month
National Grapefruit Month
National Weddings Month

Here are the

Official February Holidays:

1 National Freedom Day

2 Groundhog Day

2 Candlemas

3 The Day the Music Died - Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and the Big Bopper died in a plane crash in 1959.  We will commemorate, not celebrate.

4 Create a Vacuum Day--I'll just run the one I have, thanks.

4 Thank a Mailman Day--I will set out a nice card!

5 National Weatherman's Day--Grrrrrrrr.

6 Lame Duck Day--Do I send President Obama a note, or do I increase awareness about gimpy waterfowl?

7 Eat Ice Cream for Breakfast Day - first Saturday of month--I may have to add a scoop to my coffee.

7 Wave All Your Fingers at Your Neighbor Day--I think not.

7 Send a Card to a Friend Day--eCards do count; I give you permission and the environment thanks you.

8 Boy Scout Day

8 Kite Flying Day--Maybe where you live...?

9 Clean out Your Computer Day - second Monday of the Month

9 Toothache Day

10 Umbrella Day--I feel like this should be in April, really.

11 Don't Cry over Spilled Milk Day--Oddly, I like this.

11 Make a Friend Day--I'll let all the FB people do this.

11 White T-Shirt Day--My standard for jammies, so every day is this.

12 Abraham Lincoln's Birthday--I always read The Gettysburg Address. Often aloud.

12 Plum Pudding Day--In February? Have any of you had this?

13 Blame Someone Else Day - first Friday the 13th of the year--I choose...republicans.

13 Get a Different Name Day--I will always choose Samantha.

14 Ferris Wheel Day

14 National Organ Donor Day--All of us at the Dept. are donors!

14 Valentine's Day

15 Candlemas - on the Julian Calendar

15 National Gum Drop Day--Absolutely celebrating this one!

15 Singles Awareness Day--Kraft American for grilled cheese.

16 Do a Grouch a Favor Day--DOING THIS!

16 Presidents' Day - third Monday of month

17 Random Acts of Kindness Day--I feel like no one ever has randomly performed an act of kindness toward me.

18 National Battery Day--Check your smoke alarms again!

19 Chinese New Year - Year of the Goat. Don't trust goats.

19 National Chocolate Mint Day--St. Patsy's favourite ice cream.  I might take her some.

20 Cherry Pie Day--I will take a trip to the pie shop for this.

20 Hoodie Hoo Day--NOT even saying this. Ever.

20 Love Your Pet Day--This is every day. Come on.

21 Card Reading Day--I used to cast and read rune stones. Don't judge. But not cards. I'll read your business card or greeting card!

22 George Washington's Birthday--GW never did it for me. I don't find him as fascinating or compelling or wonderful as AL or even TJ.

22 Be Humble Day--Humility is admirable any day if it is genuine. Don't fake it just for the day.

22 Walking the Dog Day--Never could do this yo-yo trick well. Real dog--Zydrunas is too strong for me to walk him; he is dog-reactive.

22 International World Thinking Day--Primarily to think about global women's health issues. I will fit it in while humbly walking the dog.

23 International Dog Biscuit Appreciation Day--I appreciate how slipping my Dog Relatives these speedily ingratiates them to me.

23 Tennis Day--Very hard on my knees, this sport. Plus, why must the women wear skirts? Quite sexist.

24 National Tortilla Chip Day--Pass me the guacamole.

25 Pistol Patent Day

26 Carnival Day

26 National Pistachio Day--These are too pricey and worky for me. More for you.

26 Tell a Fairy Tale Day--Once upon a time the republicans listened to reason...

27 Polar Bear Day--I remain an avid Polar Bear enthusiast and supporter.

27 No Brainer Day--Sadly, an everyday holiday for so, so many.

28 Floral Design Day

28 Public Sleeping Day--Celebrated in classrooms daily.

28 National Tooth Fairy Day - and/or August 22--What? Santa Claus, a major International star/celebrity, gets ONE holiday a year. The Tooth Fairy gets TWO?

There is no February 29th this year, so we are spared an extra day of winter.  Next year we have Leap Day, which some people also call Sadie Hawkins Day, Opposite Day, Backwards Day, or any other sort of clever Anything Goes kind of classification.  I never understood any of that, but I did know someone born on February 29th who delighted in dividing her age by four and alternating between February 28th and March 1st for her birthday celebrations.  In most other areas of her life, she was quite joyless and plodding, so this tiny bit of capriciousness was a rare charm.

Which of these Holidays might you celebrate?  Are you embracing the new February Philosophy?

In Which I Teach You Some Climatological Geography And Ask For Your Assistance

Welcome to February in NEO.  Watch your step!

What we've lost in degrees Fahrenheit, we've gained in inches of snow. Yesterday, we leveled off at 32 degrees and picked up over a foot of new snow. It just kept coming and there wasn't a single solitary thing I could do about it. Rick went out twice and threatened it mightily with the snowblower, but it continued on and on and on, well into the night and through the early morning when he left for work at 6:15, shovelling a path to his car. It finally stopped at about noon, but not until it had left us all in a snowy oblivion with temperatures of 17 degrees and winds blasting us from the north.

I wanted to tell you so that you knew there could be Winter Storms in places other than Boston, Chicago, New York, and Washington D.C. Certainly you would never learn it on The News. Actually, it's probably better that you don't hear too terribly much about NEO/Cleveland right now. You'll all be getting plenty tired of hearing about it come July of 2016 when it becomes the Home Of The You-Know-Whos since it will be hosting the republican National Convention.

All of that aside, even though there is a plethora of blog fodder in the present field of republican candidates that is just clamoring for space here at the Dept., I do want to do a bit of Brain-Picking for a moment with you as the...er, Pickees. February is a shorter month--even shorter now since I am making this appeal on its Second Day--and I would like to try to post every day or every other day for its duration. This would be infinitely easier were I to have a Theme. One of my readers with whom I correspond regularly suggested Love and Romance, in honor of Valentine's Day being in the month. We could all discuss things such as our first date, first kiss, wedding(s), wedding dress, honeymoon, things like that. And we could, but some of those topics necessarily exclude my readers who are unmarried, had/have unsatisfactory stories of any of those, or are simply Private about such things. I can understand that; I know that, personally, I may not want to discuss some of those things here, and that some of those things would not, in my case, make a good post to read.  Yet, some of the ideas will be a Basis for a post, but not in the Traditional Manner.

Lots of things can fall under the category of Love And Romance, and I know some of you might have some ideas for me. Still others of you may have some other ideas for topics to discuss or that you'd like me to write about or even revisit. I'd like to hear from you. My email link is still in my sidebar, or you can offer ideas in Comments.

For right now, I am not loving this weather. Or the fact that My Friends In Canada are sending us another Alberta Clipper on Wednesday. And Thursday. O, Canada! We stand on guard for thee.

The groundhogs of the world had better watch out. Not Feelin' The Love, as my students used to say. Right now, I'm going to put Rick's slippers on the furnace register to warm for him. He'll come home, fire up the snowblower, and have to find someplace to put all this snow. Again. But when he comes in, he'll Feel The Love from those toasty slippers.

I look forward to your ideas. Thanks for your help.  And I have to remember to tell Rick about this thing.

Those icicles have been known to kill people!"