Tag Archives: polar vortex

All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt

Standard

One of my favorite (in a love/hate kind of way) travel oddities is all the souvenir junk one feels compelled to purchase (and pay way too much money for), all in the name of travel memories. The items you absolutely must have whose destiny is to be stuffed in a drawer for a number of years until someday, if you are really lucky, you may get .25 for it at a garage sale.  One of the most annoying,  (although tied in a close race with the snowglobe/paperweight combo and destination logo-ed shot glass), of these travel mementos is the t-shirt with a stupid saying – one that says something like “My parents went to Jamaica and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.” 

So, what does this soliloquy (because, I am sure I am talking to myself these days since my family has ceased to listen) have to do with my ultra lame post today?  Well, just this, I have been so busy with work, kids, life, staying warm, shopping on eBay, doing stuff, I have not had the time nor creativity to write a decent blog (or even an indecent one for that matter).

Ok, here it comes…the great connection…ready?

“I came to Sweet Spot today and all I got was this lousy photo.”

daylight savings

Daylight savings, in February, really?

Here's a quarter, call someone who cares...only, I don't think they take quarters anymore?

Hey, here’s a quarter, call someone who cares…only, I don’t think they take quarters anymore…

And because today’s post could not get any worse (well it could and is about to) a public service announcement:

DON'T TAKE PHOTOS AND DRIVE!DON’T SHOOT (a camera that is) AND DRIVE!

Please, come back again someday, I promise it gets better.

It can only go up from here.

A Polar Vortex Photo-Op

Standard

It’s cold outside.  I know this, not from a tremendous amount of personal experience because I am pretty sure no living creature in his/her right mind, and without fur, should test the limits of survival.  However, as I have already established (Live from the Polar Vortex), my cat is the only one who truly knows how to stay warm during these pv conditions. So, I trust her as my gauge and watch her intently for clues. That being said, even with all her fur (and, if you must know, fat) she only attempts outside jaunts long enough to “do her business”.  As I can “do my business” inside the warm house (although my boys don’t seem hampered by the same restrictions), I see no other purpose to leave it. And also, my trusty weather gauge, tells me to not make any sudden movements that would require leaving the house unless absolutely necessary,  like to get food or engage in the annoying activity called work.

Did I mention, it's cold?

Did I mention, it’s cold?

However, against my better judgment and self-preservation, I allowed my husband to talk me into a wilderness hike into our woods nearby.  Something about his words “to see the beauty”, “virgin snow” and “you are going to want to bring your camera” had me putting on as many layers as I could still stand up in, grabbing my camera and hoping to make it back home with fingers and toes still intact.

But, he was right.  It was beautiful and probably worth the risk of a little frost bite.

Winter Woods1

Winter Woods2

Winter Woods 3

Winter Woods 4

Winter Woods 5

Winter Woods 6

Winter Woods 7

Winter Woods 8

Winter Woods 9

Unfortunately, our woodland adventure ended when my husband had a disagreement with a hill as to whether his SUV could make it up its icy, snow covered surface in 4 wheel drive or not.  The answer was “not”,  with the end result being a backward slide into a tree that was kind enough to stop our decent, abruptly…

Unfortunate time of year for creative ventilation.

Unfortunate time of year for creative ventilation.

(Truthfully, his vehicles have looked worse)

The hike back out of the woods to get a ride home until his car could be towed out was somehow not quite as quaint,

Did it all of a sudden get colder?

Did it all of a sudden get colder?

But, we lived to tell about it, and then some.

The cat was the only one who stayed home…

Live From the Polar Vortex

Standard

polar vortex

Yesterday, I went to the bank.  Exciting, I know.  But, I made a crucial discovery in the process.  You see, as I dumped into the teller’s space my unfinished deposit items, I expressed apologies for my inability to perform the simplest of math required to complete the deposit slip.  “That’s ok” she generously replied, “It’s too cold to think”.  In the words of Pre-Teen, who immortalized the phrase in our family after discovering a London street we had inadvertently walked down late one night was the “gay party street”…

”That explains a lot!!!”.

Too cold to think!  Of course! Suddenly all was explainable.  It explained why I can’t seem to write a blog to save my life (which aside from my recent run-in with a barbed wire fence hasn’t really been necessary), why I have been driving in circles on country roads in the quest to deliver my sons to sporting events (because how else to explain that after 12 years, I still have not mastered country-style direction following), and why I can’t seem to put two words together or remember anyone’s name (cause, like, in no way could that be age or anything).

Honestly, the whole Polar Vortex thing is getting on my nerves.  Aside from the “too cold to think” phenomenon (which, seriously, is the last thing I need as my thinking abilities are challenged under the warmest of conditions), and the fact that I can’t leave the house without cursing at the wind like a crazy lady, and those weather-chicken school officials who keep making my kids stay home with me, stuck in the house being bored, instead of in school annoying the teachers, (don’t they know waiting at the bus stop in sub-zero weather builds character?),  there are the questions.

For example, my husband, asking me every single morning – like my uterus is somehow hard wired into the Doppler radar – “What is the weather forecast for today?” (um cold, freezing or excuse-me-while-I-scream-in-agony-cold?).  Or from friends and family smugly living in my native California – like they don’t recall that anything under 60 degrees qualifies as “cold” in Cali (yeah, you know who you are) – “Is it cold there?”  (um, yeah, cold, freezing, and excuse-me-while-I-scream-in-agony cold).  Or from Teen and Pre-Teen who I suspect secretly just want me out of the way so they can watch a cagillioneth episode of Family Guy “Why are you watching Dexter…again!?” – (because the Miami setting makes me feel warm and I have a soft spot for a cute sociopath with heart, if you must know).

I can at least appreciate the question from friends who, like me once basked in the glory of a sunshine state but have now unwittingly found themselves relocated in a polar vortex – “Are you surviving the cold”  (since I wear gloves to grocery shop, I would have to say “No”).

One thing is for certain.  My cat, Lulubelle, doesn’t seem to have trouble thinking in the cold and has in fact figured out a way to survive and keep warm, which makes her the smartest member of our family.

You don't mind a few, or say hundreds of white hairs on your clean laundry, right?

You don’t mind a few, or say hundreds of white hairs on your clean laundry, right?

Yep, things are that bleak.

So for now,

I am coming to you live from the Polar Vortex…

But, only barely.