Looks Like Fun, Right?

I know, some of you think it is crazy to play in the snow, but what else are you going to do about it? Complain?
"I just don't like the cold."
"Winter lasts such a long time."
"I wish it would warm up and melt all this white stuff."
Complaining won't change the weather so you might as well learn to live with it. Here is a short tutorial on how to embrace the season!
Layers. I'm not talking about a new haircut. Never in the history of mankind have there been so many comfortable and convenient ways to brace against the cold. From affordable silky thermal underwear (Fruit of the Loom) to fleece outer clothing, warm stuff is available so go get some - or ask Santa for something warm. You don't have to resort to curling up in a Snuggie unless, of course, that is your thing!
Find a winter hobby - something you can only justify during the cold weather, such as skiing, snow shoeing, or reading everything ever written by Clive Cussler. (That should kill some time!) If you save the hobby for winter months, you'll find yourself looking forward to snow fall.
Find the sun - even if you have to drive. It is amazing the healing effects a few warm rays can have on ones emotions. Even if those rays can only find the tip of your nose because the rest of you is covered in fleece, they will warm your soul.
Finally - refrain from complaining! Negative self talk will only make you miserable, as well as those around you. After all, some of us are trying to enjoy ourselves!
Wanna play in the snow?

Ski Season

The snow has fallen! I don't remember the last time my favorite ski resort was open in November! Here we are clear into the third day of December and the Greens have not yet hit the slopes. The boys are getting restless! The master of the house is beginning to twitch!

It creates a bit of a problem, this early season opening. I had not planned to commit my Saturdays to the ski hill until much closer to Christmas. After all, I am still a football junkie! The transition goes something like this ...

1 - Clothing. Rather than don a favorite team shirt and lounge pants, participants now must layer on warm and wicking base layers and waterproof outer layers. Gone are the fuzzy socks and slippers. It's time to cram ones foot into unyielding ski boots. Helmets, gloves, and goggles are also part of the required attire.

2 - Alarm Clock. Yes, I have to set it on Saturday.

3 - Food. No more various snacks and main courses dubbed "tailgate food," it is necessary that the meal now fit into the small crock pot (this I love!) that plugs into the dashboard lighter. Chips and sodas are allowed as the physical activity provides a bit of justification. In addition to regular breakfast, a cream filled Bismark is often consumed on the drive up the hill! Ironically, this meal is often consumed on an actual tailgate as opposed to the tailgate food that is consumed in front of a TV!

4 - Equipment. The remote control has been traded for skis, boots, poles, goggles, helmets, jackets, gloves, and ski passes.

5 - Recovery. Much the same with the addition of ibuprofen consumption.

And so it begins ...

Ice Rink Hi-jinks!

My sister, Kaye, is nothing if not charitable. She is also very creative and crafty. If there is a useful item that can be crafted by hand, Kaye will attempt to reproduce it. So it was that seven-year-old Gary came upon his Clown Pants. They weren’t really clown pants they only appeared to be such. Bright colors and parachute fabric were not to become popular apparel materials for many years to come. Gary’s pants were definitely before their time.

The bitter winters in Eastern Idaho call for added protection from wind and weather, especially for recent Floridian transplants. Kaye, the Do-it-yourself-er, fashioned a pair of baby blue “warm-ups” to keep her offspring dry and comfortable as he trudged to and from school. Unfortunately, the bounteous yards of fabric she used gave one the impression Gary was wearing a pair of Princess Jasmine’s harem pants! He dutifully donned the voluminous pants and marched to and from school enduring the bitter teasing of his school mates – and his aunts!

Hoping to ease his transition from tropical Florida to near Arctic conditions, Gary’s aunts determined to teach him to embrace the cold. We took him ice-skating!

In addition to his clown pants, Gary wore several layers on his upper half and a fuzzy stocking cap. He was forced to wear a nice white pair of girls’ ice skates. When he took to the ice, it was as if a cartoon character had come to life. Rather than wait for instructions, Gary attacked the rink with gusto! He began at one end of the rink using the toe pick – the jagged teeth at the front of a figure skate blade – for traction. Running the length of the rink, his legs whirring like fan blades, the sharp length of the skate blade never making contact with the ice, Gary stopped with only a few yards left before running out of rink. He appeared suspended in air as his legs whirred past one another. Then Gary would suddenly flatten his feet. They promptly slid in front of him as his softer more cushioned parts dropped onto the ice. Most victims of skating falls take a moment to evaluate well being and examine for broken body parts. Not Gary! He bolted upright facing the direction from which he had just arrived, and repeated the activity – step by step – whir by whir – crash by crash!

His enthusiasm was enviable. We had not, however, the energy to join him as we were spent from chuckling.

At length, his doting mother could no longer contain her curiosity, or maybe it was her concern for his welfare, and she joined us. Few can emit a full bodied laugh as does my sister. Our entertainment was now twofold – Gary, whirring and splatting while his mother shook with glee.

We tried to teach. Our attempts to slow Gary’s efforts in hopes that he might gain some control over his movements were futile. He repeatedly attacked the ice with gusto. The silly looking pants added to the visual effect. He truly appeared as a cartoon character and his enthusiasm never waned.

How often do we quell a person’s zeal in an attempt to improve his skills? Would it be better to let them be that they might live in the moment? I don’t know the answers, but I do know that I will never lose the image in my mind of Gary on Ice!

Change is in the Air!

I thought, perhaps, the sky was falling last night at bedtime! The metal roof over my bedroom magnifies the sound of rain. A light drizzle to some sounds like a down pour to me. It was heightened, I am sure, by the fact that I haven't heard that patter in quite some time.

It is a bit like indulging in a treat one has avoided for some time. The satisfaction is greater due to the anticipation. I can't say that I anticipate rain storms with the same excitement as a hot fudge sundae, but the sensations are increased just the same.

Something else the patter reminded me about it the pending snow ski season! It's on its way!

Brrr!

What was I thinking? I heard the forcast. I listened to the counsel. I remembered the last time the pipes froze. It isn't that difficult to leave a faucet dripping!

Alas, I ignored the weatherman and woke up to frozen pipes! Ugh! So now I wait. Space heater pointed at the suspected area of icy blockage, I wait. I also had to fuss with the breaker box! (See previous posts.) My plans have been changed because I failed to follow one simple instruction. "Leave a faucet dripping!" When I heard the anchorman offering his wisdom, I thought, "I remember the last time our pipes froze. Somebody left the garage door open all night. Well, the garage door is shut. I'm not going to mess with a dripping faucet." Turns out six degrees below zero goes right through the garage door!

My husband is out of town. He spent the night in a warm hotel room. I'm sure he had running water this morning. My teenager is at school. One bottle of spring water (Yes, I purchase bottled water. Just because my name is Green doesn't mean I am green.) and he had his teeth brushed and was out the door. Another son is in Brazil. It's 75 degrees there! Me? I'm just waiting. I intended to make a mad dash to town this morning, however, I dare not leave. The space heater could burn down the house. I have every faucet open - there could be a flood!

What does this experience teach me? I don't know. I'm beginning to think I'm not very teachable!

I think I'll go bang on the pipes!