Fifteen Below

When I woke up this morning, the temperature with wind chill was fifteen degrees below zero.  This would cause most people to shudder and shrill with fear.  But, us Michiganders just head to the closet, pick out the extra layers, and resign to the fact that there will be a larger load of laundry this week.

There are some advantages to below freezing temps, however:

• You can grocery shop on your lunch break and not worry about leaving the frozen foods in the car.
• The dinner rolls you left in the car may be feesibly used as weapons if you're mugged in the parking lot later that night.
• You can seem really tough to your friends in warm climates when they complain about their 50 degrees on Facebook.
• You can finally take a short-cut across that pesky lake/pond/stream.
• The extra support from wearing two pairs of pants seems to relieve arthritis.
• You don't mind going upstairs at work for---otherwise pointless---corporate meetings. (Heat rises!)  I had one today.  Can't tell you what was on the agenda, but the second pair of pants were less of a necessity up there. Ahhhh...
• If you cross paths outdoors with a guy in a ski mask, you can jokingly say, "Don't rob me!" (mock-throwing up you hands, with a smile on your face.) This will catch him off guard just in case he was really going to.  If it turns out he's just cold, he'll simply think you're hilarious. Win, win!
• The outdoor crime rate drops tremendously.  Even gang-bangers would rather be indoors watching cable in this weather.
• If someone were to shoot at you, the gale force winds would probably redirect the bullets.
• Last but not least... the weather announcement the local news channel coined, "Cuddle Alert!"  (You're kids too old to snuggle these days?  Bet they're not too old to combat hypothermia!)

Cash reward, divided by three... carry the one, equals...

Alright, I do have one one last bonus bulletpoint:  Brought to you by my six-year-old nephew who simutaneously spotted an ice-fisherman and an Ice Rescue Station this weekend.  As I used the fisherman as an example to explain what each tool in the station was for, his major concern---were we to save the guy's life---was "What do we get?"  "You get to have saved a human life!"  "No, Kimmy... What will they GIVE us?"

Keep your eyes open.  There may be gold in them there fishin' holes for yer!  Stay cool.  Keep warm.  Bring your dogs inside.

2013: Resolute

New Year's resolutions... Who's made them this year?

I don't make a habit of the annual tradition.  Every now and then I'll take the oath.  Life was in a bit of a tailspin last year, so I did it.

This year is starting much more on track, however.  So, rather than vowing any vows myself, I thought I'd assign a few resolutions to others instead.

Facebook friends:  I resolve, on your behalf, to give me one day's newsfeed free of gun control debate.  Pro, con... doesn't matter.  I'm simply asking for one day that my newsfeed remains entirely amusement only. 

Rihanna: Disable your Twitter account.  There's this thing called "oversharing" and it will haunt you twenty years from now.

Lindsay Lohan: Take what's left of your money and go to college.  Night school, not university.  No dorms, no parties.  Surround yourself with books and learning.  Converse only with the sober.  Avoid the camera lens with the determination of the Amish and the strength of an aborigine.  Shun your family.  Take one year to look at others without forcing them to look at you.

Psy:  Remember William Hung?  Us neither.  Count your money while following his footsteps.

Young Hollywood:  Film-makers and stars: You're funny without the "shock".  You can be provacative without the vulgar.  And, newsflash!  The f-word is not an adjective, it is a verb.  Using it 50 times per film in its unintended tense does not a comic make.  Be smart.  On your behalf, I resolve one PG film from Judd Apatow, Seth MacFarlane, Paul Rudd, Jonah Hill and Seth Rogan apiece.  Consider yourself challenged.  It will be the best work of your life!

Claire Danes: Just for kicks... a comedy.  I dare you!

Boo Boo Family (That's Honey's last name, right?): She's getting taller, older, less cute-little-princessy... Come up with a game plan. Stat!

Taylor Swift: For you, I resolve a one year dating fast.  There's a world of music beyond break-up songs.  And, I'm beginning to think a secret society's been created by the young men who've served as muse.  (Joe Jonas to Jon Mayer, "Only one song, John! Pfft.  I was inspiration enough for three!")  You're young,  talented, rich and beautiful. Best yet... for a star of your age, your reputation is still pretty much intact.  (For now.)  Be free!  Be otherwise inspired!

Glee: Spin off the New York storyline as was originally intended.  It's good, but it's different and needs its own vehicle.  The college scenes are draining the color, vibrancy and spunk out of the high school ones.  And, when did Glee suddenly become a small screen version of Center Stage?  More singing less dance class, please!

Bakers:  Find a new trend.  We already had cake, cupcakes, mini cupcakes, ice cream cake, cake with fruit, cake with filling and cakes unnaturally shellacked in fondant.  There was never really a need for cake pops, was there?

Zombies:  Die already!  Again.

.

Mother Nature: A little tenderness this year?

Thanksgiving Traditions

Here in Detroit, we are not watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade this morning.  No, no.  Currently my television channel is set to the local NBC affiliate that is airing Detroit's own America's Thanksgiving Day Parade.  Yes, as humble and decrepit as our city may seem to the rest of the country... back off!  Today is Thanksgiving and we have our own parade and our very own football game too.

Living in the metropolis surrounding a core city that's experienced such loss (money, leadership, neighborhoods, Boblo Island!) there's alot that economics can't take away from metro-Detroiters; our spirit, hometown loyalty and traditions.

The parade lives on and is my background commotion this morning as it has been every Thanksgiving in the past thirty-eight years.

In our childhood home the parade would be viewed in the living room.  A quartet of kids, cozy in pajamas, crunching on Cocoa Puffs and hearing the clank of preparations in the next room.  Mom would be rifling through pots and pans and going through her methodical preparations:  Crisco-ing the turkey, lining up the boxes and cans of sides, ironing the good tablecloth and waiting on the electric double oven to heat.  Meanwhile, we kids remained nearby but out of the way.  The Detroit parade, its marching bands and mega balloons being the perfect distraction.

One year, I distinctly recall a local reporter dropping an expletive during the live broadcast.  A giant balloon of an adorable puppy was being commandeered down the street by its bundled-up handlers.  The female reporter, who either was imbibing in holiday spirits a little too early in the day or simply didn't realize that her mic was still live, remarked to her co-host, "Could you imagine if that thing took a *bleep* on your carpet?!"  (only without the censoring bleep!) My eyes went large and my stomach went sour.  That was a word I knew we weren't allowed to use and I wasn't sure I was even supposed to know of its existence!  I peripherally checked my siblings and not a flicker, not a comment.  I don't know if the slip had missed them or if they too were sitting wide-eyed in disbelief.  The purity of my holiday was soured for a moment.  This was not a holiday memory I ever wanted to cherish... but, here I sit with that annual remembering creeping up as tradition.

Eventually Santa would end the local parade and we'd take turns cranking through the six local channels to find more Thanksgiving fun.  Usually another of the major networks would be airing a medley of parades from across the country. They would swap coverage from New York to Hawaii to L.A. to even brief footage from our own humble parade.  It was always odd to see sun and palm trees mixed with turkey celebrations.  We locals associate the November holiday with cold, sometimes wet, sometimes crisp and sometimes snow!  Coconut-shelled hula dancers were always an odd mix in the variety of footage seen that day, but it became tradition too.

At some point we'd be urged out of our flannels and into our clothing.  And, about the time the scent of turkey would start to waft it would be time for the kids in the living room to turn the channel to Charlie Brown. 

Now, for some reason in the mid-eighties, they didn't air the Peanuts Thanksgiving special on Thanksgiving Day.  In the era before 24-hour holiday viewing on cable networks, you could only catch these specials once a year.  Charlie's holiday of popcorn, lawn chairs and toast would be aired an evening or two before the holiday itself.  On Thanksgiving Day, for some reason, the chosen mid-afternoon programming became Race for Your Life, Charlie Brown!  Yep, the special where Charlie, Linus, Peppermint Patty and crew somehow got involved in a water rapids race while away at summer camp.  The Peanuts had to battle the typical camp trials including the navigation of confusing military time, missed buses, nature's elements, Charlie Brown's ineptness and a gaggle of bullies which, of course, included an evil brown cat.  It was never my favorite Peanuts special, but with only six channels to contend with and most other p.m. coverage designated to the NFL, Race for Your Life became a part of our tradition as well.

Around the time the scent of turkey was joined by the additional aromas of rolls and pie, was the time we started crayoning out place settings and watching out the family room picture window for the arrival of grandparents and cousins.  Most major holidays were celebrated with my mom's side of the family.  Thanksgiving would include Lion's football on the tube for the men, a (weather-permitting) half-hazard round of touch football in the yard for the kids and who-knows-what for the ladies because we ran off and left them trickling back and forth between the kitchen and dining room.

Dinner always (and pretty much still) consisted of turkey (which my older cousin would always try to convince me was chicken, so I'd stop making gag-faces and try it), gravy, Stove Top stuffing, Hungry Jack's mashed potatoes, corn, canned cranberry sauce ("the red stuff"), some kind of pistachio dish my grandma would always make ("the green stuff"), sweet potatoes ("the stuff with the marshmallows in it") and heaping piles of split-top rolls.  Dessert was always an assortment of pies, pumpkin always present, and us kids trying to swipe mouthfuls of whipped cream, sans pie.  There is also a birthday cake for my grandmother who's birthday falls on the 25th.

After the carb-load someone would always fall asleep (one or two of the men), the women would sit chattering at the table and us kids would run off and play and/or try to spy on what the women were talking about (and maybe still be trying to swipe the whipped cream.)

Thanksgiving now rotates between venues with basically the same crowd; only now with the addition of spouses and new cousins/great-grandchildren/nieces and nephews (titles dependant on which branch of the family tree you reside.)  We thankfully still celebrate Grandma's special day along with the holiday (Her 93rd, this year!)  The company of my last-living grandparent I still cherish along with the fact that the rest of the family still shares love and company with one another after all these years.  God and is as good to us and he was decades ago, despite lifes ups and downs.  And, the comfort of the parade currently broadcasting in the background is one more way that I'm assured that home is home.

Spring has Sprung!

Last week

This week

Spring has sprung, very suddenly and very much welcomely, here in Michigan.  (Welcomely? Word? Not a word?  Oh well...)  I come to this conclusion because we've steadily enjoyed mild temperatures for over an entire week now, as well as forseen in the entire 10-day forecast.

Now, I'm just hoping this post doesn't cause me to bite my tongue in the coming weeks because, although they say "March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb", Mother Nature tends to like to flip-flop that saying around these parts with that sadistic humor only she can appreciate.  It's not unusual for her to drop an ice storm or one last blizzard just in time to ruin local Easter egg hunts.  But, seeing that this year's entire winter has been strangely mild... I think we of the Great Lakes are safely in the clear.
 

What I've loved about early Spring this week:

• It being both light enough and warm enough to walk the neighborhood after dinner.  Yes. Venturing outdoors, after six, without a flashlight. 
• When taking above-mentioned walks, the air smells like so much barbeque!
• Hearing someone practicing the piano through an open window. (Pleasant, in a momentary walk by. Their next door neighbors may have a differing opinion...)
• Neighborhood cats, sprawled out in every sunbeam in sight. Windows, driveways, front porches... Oooh kitty kitties!  Where were you hiding all Winter?
• All of the birdhouses being occupied and waking up to the "tweetly-deetley-deet" that accompanies fully occupied birdhouses.
• Busy little squirrels. Everywhere! And, baby ones too! So cute, so hyper and so entertaining to me.
•  Hearing kids at the school playground down the street. Outdoor recess has resumed!  Cover your ears, lunchladies!

There were also a few surprises that crept up on me with early Spring:

• Sunburn?  Already?!
• Next time I wear capris I've got to remember to shave my legs.
• My toenails look naked.
• The condition of the rest of my feet is unspeakable.
• I'm not getting anything done indoors because I only want to read books, only while outside, only while in my own sunbeam. (Vitamin D!)

Yeah, there may be alot to complain about in the world today.  But, right here, in this moment (while I'm packing my sweaters away) life ain't nothing but sunshine!

A Pain in My Eye!

I'm back!  I've been on about a week hiatus due to a blasted scratch on my friggin' cornea.  Glowing computer screens, not my friend this week. 

In keeping with my last post, I've been on glasses duty during this time (and the coming few days as well.)  Grrrr...  God has taught me humility through all of this, though my nose suffers under the weight of my lenses and my vanity is kinda starting to miss my eye makeup stash.

I have to consult my Facebook page to remember what I missed posting about this week. ('Cause that how we document things these days, right?)

I went to the zoo on Sunday with my brother's kids.  My 14-year-old niece discovered that, yes, she's still afraid on butterflies.  And, peacocks too for that matter.  My nephews each rode a dinosaur for the very first time... on the zoo's brand spankin' new and simply adorable carousel, that is:

I had a lion look me right square in the eye.  Not in a "I'd like to eat you now" way, but more in the sense of, "My instincts tell me I should eat you, but my heart thinks we could be really good friends":

Another lion did this:

We saw the cutest family of chimpanzees this side of the Congo.  The baby was so sweetly content riding his mama like this:

...but the kids soon lost interest because it's not like the chimps were riding around on tricycles while smoking cigars or anything.  Chants of "Can we go now?" I managed to ignore for probably a good twenty minutes.  That's how you get your chimp fix, you see.  By feigning deafness.

The work week brought temps of highs in 70s here in SE Michigan.  That's what people call an "Indian Summer" around these parts.  We should probably start calling it a "Native American Summer" though, to be more p.c.  It's got the same ring.  But, since it doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, we probably won't.

Sunshiny temps plus the banning of my contacts brought up some risky issues.  For one, I don't own a pair of prescription sunglasses. And, since any hint of light causes my damaged eye to water like Niagara, I've been forced to resort to this:

I've always been a fan of layering

It's street legal as far as I can tell!

I won runner-up in a "Pimp Your Ride" (ie. office chair) contest at work, 'cause I work at a place that has such contests:

May the Queen with the thickest glasses rule the land.

I came home drunk on power and managed to make this mess:

Did I do that?

If candy were currency I would also be king.  I managed to collect all my riches, but am still unsure of the candy corn to hair ratio left mingling in their new ziplocked home.

Besides that, I've started watching and loving The New Girl on Fox.  I've come to terms with the fact that Glee is apparently now a drama and no longer a musical comedy.  I finished My Life With Eleanor and started reading (and loving!) She Got Up Off the Couch.  I'm finding Haven Kimmel (Who wants to take bets that that's not her birth name?) thoroughly entertaining and I'm seeing that I'm going to have to quickly purchase A Girl Named Zippy, because it came first and Couch is it's sequel. 

What else... it's been five days since my last post so I guess that means I've entered the Publishers Clearinghouse Sweepstakes five more times since then and now we're back up to speed.  (I guess the near-blind can still get a whole lot accomplished in a week!)

Now if you'll excuse me, the queen needs her rest.

Cold Snap

There's an old saying in Michigan, "If you don't like the weather, wait a minute, it'll change."  If you're from Michigan you roll your eyes when you hear this. Although it speaks the truth... we've been hearing the adage our whole lives and the novelty has since worn off.

This past Saturday it was 96 degrees outside. Yesterday and today were highs of 66. I'm a strong advocate for Fall, but I need to be eased into a thirty degree drop. When it's gradual, it's welcome. When it's sudden, it just drives one's allergies wild!  (Not to mention the accompanying wardrobe conundrum.)

My biggest love of my home state is that we get to experience all four seasons. Gorgeously! To Norman Rockwell degrees.  I feel bad for people who only have summer weather year-round (although I may get a little jealous after Winter trails on a few weeks too long.)

Winter is for snowy walks, cozying up, winter sports and holiday fun. Spring is for puddle-jumping and hiking through bountiful blooms.  Summer is for heading to the nearest lake to boat on, ski on, fish in or just simply sun yourself near. And, Fall is for leaf-crunching walks, skinny jeans with boots and cider mills.

I smell Fall.  It's near.  I swore I even sniffed a cinnamon donut in the air last week.  I actually needed a blanket to sit out back and read the other night.  AND, fleece sweatpants!  It was annoying at first, seeing that I was wearing shorts and a tank top the day before.  But, gradually as I cozied up, even the light breeze didn't bother me (thank you blankie shield.) 

Then the most glorious scent whiffed under my nose.  Burning wood.  At first I'd wondered if the neighbor's garage had caught fire (again.)  But, then I realized that someone had their fire pit going. It's fire pit time of year! 

The chapter in the memoir I was reading had drifted into October and started telling tales of trick-or-treating in the countryside.  Between that, the burning wood, the cozy breeze and the chorus of crickets chirping, my senses had all come to a unanimous decision.
 

Autumn, I submit.

August is Just Fine by Me

Autumn is my favorite season, but I'm starting to cheat on it with August a little bit.

I'll quit, I promise!  I could never leave my first love.  In its absence, however, I'm tempted by the misguided concept of "loving the one your with".  How unfair the seduction this first week of the month has been.  

Each day this week I have spent my lunch break reading in my car with the windows down, in order to simply touch my skin to this most perfect weather for as long as possible before returning to the manufactured air so poisonously pumped through the office corridors. I've found I have just enough time to finish one chapter of reading leaving a few minutes remaining to close my eyes and mind-travel.

Monday was a little humid, but with it was brought a sultry tropical breeze. When I closed my eyes I could practically smell the coconut oil and hear the palm leaves swish against one another. As the hallucination of swishing palm branches distracted me from reality, another balmy breeze caught me by surprise, salt of the sea most definitely in the air. I left reality for a moment let out a horribly audible sigh. Startling my own eyes open, I noticed a woman from a neighboring office shuffling down the sidewalk and stopping to look wildly around to see who was breathing so violently at her. Shoo shoo, office lady. I'm on a pretend vacation and you are not on the companion ticket.

The next day the air was more as one would expect here in Michigan. Lake-y. But, being tens of miles from the nearest sizable body of water, I guessed this could be attributed to the wormy puddles that had collected in the parking lot due to the previous evening's rain shower. Nonetheless, I had five minutes of daydreaming left and so my eyes closed, unwilled.  Imagined lake shore air immediately impeded by the strong scent of the Chinese restaurant up the block. Mmm... fried food. I can still work with this.  Let's call it a summer carnival on the shore instead until the clock changes to that unwanted hour and it's time to turn off my imagination and earn my keep once again.

And, so each afternoon has gone. Each productive morning interrupted by an unscheduled lunchtime rendezvous. The return walk to the office building feeling more and more like a death march with each lazy step. Oh, world, how do we do it?

I'm not usually one to stray.  Affairs seem exhaustively pointless to me. I do love the fall.  It's my sworn companion for life.  But, for today, August is just fine by me.