When I started this online journal I made a loose promise to blog once a week, or so. There are many posts, nearly thirty, if I remember correctly. That probably averages out to nearly one a week. However, they have not come weekly as promised. For this, I am sorry.
The main purpose behind this blog was to keep my brother and sister-in-law apprised of the events happening in my life, as my bro always says, "Details, I want details!" This blog has turned out to be more of a chronicle of fun events and humorous circumstances than a weekly update on the details of my life. One thing that I have discovered in my time as a blogger is that I enjoy writing!
SHHHHH! Don't tell my Writing Effective Prose professor. I waited until my senior year of college to take that infernal, freshman level course. And then I only got a B. Writing was not a passion for me, but I felt as if I could put out a good paper. When this class began the prof proceeded to pick writing apart to the tiny, seemingly inconsequential details. I'm sure that I learned something, but after that class I always, ALWAYS, turned in papers with a question mark as to my paragraph lengths, word choices, citation style, never again did the confidence of my previous college experience back me up.
Ah well, I suppose learning a little bit from a good teacher can show you just how little you really know about a subject. Maybe, that is what I was suffering from there. Even still, I am glad to say that I have found fun, relaxation, deep thought, and even joy from the writing of these blog entries! If for nothing else than laughing at my own posts, this blog is a success in my eyes.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Thoughts on Cold
You wanted winter?!?! There you go.
The sub-zero temperatures have been a source of great distress to me. I mean, the foremost thoughts in my mind these days have been 'how many layers can I wear and still be able to move?' and 'is it really necessary to wear my coat INside in order to stay warm?'
We have this jacket that we affectionately call the Walking Sleeping Bag. My mom bought this coat in the early 1990's and it has been hanging around ever since. It seems to have extraordinary characteristics. For example, it fits anybody that puts it on. My brother Lars often puts this coat on if a quick run outside is necessary, and the sleeves are long enough and the front zips close with ease. All members of this household, past and present, have taken turns wearing this coat. All people who put on this coat end up looking the same size, about on par with the Michelin Man or the Marshmallow man from Ghostbusters. It also is full length and iridescent maroon. A color, I am certain, that they stopped producing in 1994.
The extreme cold weather has caused me to ruminate on the merits of this coat. I am thankful that the Walking Sleeping Bag hangs in our back closet. Last night, after I had been asleep for over an hour, my brother knocked on my door to tell me that my car was parked on the wrong side of the street. I have no doubt that his intentions were noble and even that he would have moved the car if he had been able (alas, Hans has a manual transmission and Erik, while wonderful in many ways, is unable to maneuver the stick shift car).
I was ready to tempt fate, try my chances of getting a parking ticket and just stay in bed, all warm under my down comforter and 'mink.' Although, seeing I was awake, shouldn't I just save the possible $15 parking ticket and move the dumb car? It was just torture, thinking that I would have to brave the arctic chill just to move the car. But then, hope sprang eternal! I had the Walking Sleeping Bag to save the night! To the closet I sped, I threw on said coat, tied the cute little bow fasteners on the front and slipped my feet into shearling boots. Out I went, running down the driveway, swiping clear the windshield with a purple clad arm, into the car, through a treacherous u-turn, into a parking spot on the opposite side of the street, out of the car, up the driveway, into the house, out of the coat and boots, and back into a still warm bed. Not a goosebump to be seen. Ah, the wonder of it all!
I do not love the cold weather, but without it the Walking Sleeping Bag would never have existed. How I love the Walking Sleeping Bag!
The sub-zero temperatures have been a source of great distress to me. I mean, the foremost thoughts in my mind these days have been 'how many layers can I wear and still be able to move?' and 'is it really necessary to wear my coat INside in order to stay warm?'
We have this jacket that we affectionately call the Walking Sleeping Bag. My mom bought this coat in the early 1990's and it has been hanging around ever since. It seems to have extraordinary characteristics. For example, it fits anybody that puts it on. My brother Lars often puts this coat on if a quick run outside is necessary, and the sleeves are long enough and the front zips close with ease. All members of this household, past and present, have taken turns wearing this coat. All people who put on this coat end up looking the same size, about on par with the Michelin Man or the Marshmallow man from Ghostbusters. It also is full length and iridescent maroon. A color, I am certain, that they stopped producing in 1994.
The extreme cold weather has caused me to ruminate on the merits of this coat. I am thankful that the Walking Sleeping Bag hangs in our back closet. Last night, after I had been asleep for over an hour, my brother knocked on my door to tell me that my car was parked on the wrong side of the street. I have no doubt that his intentions were noble and even that he would have moved the car if he had been able (alas, Hans has a manual transmission and Erik, while wonderful in many ways, is unable to maneuver the stick shift car).
I was ready to tempt fate, try my chances of getting a parking ticket and just stay in bed, all warm under my down comforter and 'mink.' Although, seeing I was awake, shouldn't I just save the possible $15 parking ticket and move the dumb car? It was just torture, thinking that I would have to brave the arctic chill just to move the car. But then, hope sprang eternal! I had the Walking Sleeping Bag to save the night! To the closet I sped, I threw on said coat, tied the cute little bow fasteners on the front and slipped my feet into shearling boots. Out I went, running down the driveway, swiping clear the windshield with a purple clad arm, into the car, through a treacherous u-turn, into a parking spot on the opposite side of the street, out of the car, up the driveway, into the house, out of the coat and boots, and back into a still warm bed. Not a goosebump to be seen. Ah, the wonder of it all!
I do not love the cold weather, but without it the Walking Sleeping Bag would never have existed. How I love the Walking Sleeping Bag!
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