and again

i get stuck in the snow on the hill on my way back from the grocer's. this is my third winter mishap at the same spot. you would think an idiot would have learnt by now.

remind me not to take the short cut to the village after a snowfall.

weather forecast

snow tonight.
snow in the morning.
highs in the upper twenties.

nooooooo.

tall tales i've been told

it's the natural hue, says the storekeeper, of the wheat colored fringe that attaches to our new kilim. hah. if it's not white after a wash i'll eat my metaphorical hat.

the fat's been leached out by the cooking process, says the tour guide, of the three-layered pork. he clearly thinks we are hungry simpletons.

of course it's leather, says the salesgirl, of the cheap couch we're eyeing. it's car leather. euphemism for pretend stuff.

superb silk rug, says the salesman, of the kashmiri rug. art silk, from mercerized cotton.

this is solid plywood, says the young man, with a straight face.

dinner tonight

i tend my pot of soup and notice tongues of fire licking at the base. fascinating, i catch me thinking, that flames can emerge from an electric cooker.

it's my version of kiam-chye-ak soup that is more properly a szechuan-vegie-leftover-turkey substitution. not very authentic, J2 sniffs. hey, i say, if i can set soup on fire, i am permitted to be inauthentic.

bathroom shenanigans 2

J1 discovers an alien pool of clear liquid on the kitchen floor. we are unable to trace it to any plumbing, and reluctantly observe that it has both a distinctive tint and odor. this, together with the creature trying to look invisible under the dining table, clearly points to an inconvenient truth.

maternal thoughts

J1 drives J2 to church for worship practice and back. they go on their own! without me to watch over them!

it drains me to trust and to let go. yet when i do, i am surprised that it is a non-event. the J's return, unscathed, in due course, to Dog's exuberant welcome.

i am reminded that if i do not loosen the ties, bonds will in time be bondage.

quickie reminder

i know, o lord, that a man's life is not his own; it is not for man to direct his steps. - jer 10:11

not my will

nor my agenda

not my wherewithal

nor my outcome

but

my peace

unexpected joys

and sufficient grace

for the days

fahrenheit 27

come walk Dog with me, says HOM. i'd like the company.

on a blustery winter's day with a make-believe sun? there's lurve, darling, and there's frostbite.

new skill

dinner treat

we have dinner with little M and her family. i find myself delighted then adopted by a gentle imp, who brings me to visit her bathrooms her christmas gifts and her artwork, and who charmingly asks HOM to remove himself so i can sit beside her. M is a pleasant reminder that not every tyke is a stridently spinning ninja star.

spend time with a child and you pretty much open a window through the good manners parents put on for public display and catch a glimpse of what prevails when life intrudes.