COLD. The Long Way Around.

Family Photo.

The Women...

My mother was never one to procrastinate.  When she had broken her long toe on the middle leg of the antique sofa three times she decided it was time to send the thing off to its final resting place.  Who put middle legs on sofas anyway?  She waited for the old farmer that drove by the house everyday in his old, falling to pieces pick-up truck.  She knew this man because he had lost a substantial part of his truck one day in front of the house, and she had dragged it to the side of the road for him to retrieve on his way back through.  Which he did. 

She sat on the porch steps and waited.  When she first heard, then saw, the rickety truck chugging its way down the road she, in her calculating manner, slid down to the curb and began frantically waving the farmer down.   He, thinking something was awry, immediately pulled over to the curb.  "Somethin' wrong here?"   "Oh,' my mother purred,  "just that I really need to get rid of our old living room set, and we don't have a truck.  If you take it away for me you may have it."     

Old guy thought he died and went to heaven when he saw it.  He called his brother ( 'Bubba', my mother had a memory for hilarious nicknames) to come over and help, the two guys loaded that antique living room set into their truck faster than you can say free.  Before they left the farmer said to my mother, "But lady, what are you going to sit on?"    "Oh, I'm sure I'll figure something out..."  

She promptly raced off to the furniture store and bought a new living room set, minus any middle legs.  My father was used to this sort of behaviour.   He once arrived home to find a new BMW sports model in the driveway, instead of my mother's Karman Ghia.  "Wheres your car?" he asked.  When she told him it had been making a funny noise and decided to get something new he said, "You got a loan that fast?"   "Oh dear, no, I wrote a check for it..."      My father used to say he knew then and there he had an extremely strong heart muscle. 

When my mother made up her mind there was no changing it. When she decided that things were boring around the house after my sister left for college (yuh, I took it personally, though she said not to!), she decided we should have a new color TV.  She had it delivered one early winter evening.

She turned it on and we sat transfixed. Hypnotized even.   It was incredible. Our first show was Gilligan's Island, and when all that gorgeous blue water appeared on the intro, while we occupied the two radiators in the room trying to stay warm, we realized we suddenly felt warmer.  Eventually we would remove the folded towels we used as seat cushions from the radiators and migrate to the couch to see the 14' screen better.

From then on during the winter we would watch shows that were situated in warm places if Dr. Kildaire, Ben Casey, or Perry Mason weren't on.   These programs were mostly indoors, hence considered neutral.  This is why I tend to take vacations in the winter.

Calgon Take Me Away.

For the past three nights I have not only been looking for casserole dishes to bake for dinner (warms up the kitchen), but I have been plastered to the Travel Channel in my flannel shirts and Uggs watching vacation spots in warm locales, surrounded by cats stealing my body heat.   I usually just wear the Uggs on long flights as they are comfortable and keep my feet warm. 

My Favorite Sight.

Disappearing Snow.

The man who came in a huge tractor to put the vegetable seeds in the garden was outside beeping this morning.  I went out and said, "Gee, didn't know these things had horns."  "Oh heck yeah,'  he replied, 'even got a ste-ree-o radio with the weather band. Ya look like my wife all bundled up like that. Like Nanook of the North."      Crap, I forgot to ditch my winter parka on the way out the door.    "Well, just wanted to let ya know I'm here workin,"  and off he went into the field. 

I really need to stop typing. My fingers are nearly frozen, not helping the arthritis at all.  In Parting...

Scenes from last evening.

Farm Kittens with the Babysitter...

58 Degrees.

54 Degrees.

Electric blanket on LOW.

49 Degrees.

They are all under there...

And just because...

He Brought His Toy.