Well, I thought I would hike down to the mailbox today before Doug and I left for ballroom dance lessons at the community center. Philip slid down the hill with me on his BMX bike (on the pine needles which are so slippery I nearly upended on my converse tennies), When I got to the bottom of the hill I realized I had come without the mailbox key so Philip walked his bike back up to get it while I made like a gargoyle on the side of the hill. He came back on the go-cart and gave me a lift to the bottom of the hill; then all the way back to the cabin. Not bad for a woman half a century old. I stood on the back rail and wrapped my body over the roll bars.
Category Archives: The Petty Pace
These Gloves were made for losing…
These gloves wre made for losing….or am I just totally irresponsible when it comes to pairs of gloves (or earrings). Gloves are extremely important to me. I love my hands. I take good care of them. They make sweet music at the keyboard; but I digress. I particularly like leather gloves; problem is, black is best and black has a way of disappearing in the recesses of my black purse. I have lost complete pairs of black leather gloves at the gas station in Chicago, at churches, at school, and most recently at a Christmas concert. I buy tons of gloves, the 2 for $1.50 stretchy kind are great for back – up and for loaning and for tucking in the pocket of every coat and jacket and every backpack. After using my water proof, double layer ski gloves for 5 winters (and not losing one) I finally invested in a pair of nice WARM and Professional looking suade gloves in October. Now these gloves not only looked great, they were fur lined and had knit gussets all around and a cuff. They were extremely comforting and comfortable. I got them at nearly half price at Kohl’s and I wore them through the first days of extreme cold here in the Colorado mountains. My fingers did not go numb driving in to work. I praised them, I flaunted them, I wore them to the Christmas concert; tucked them under my arm while receiving a program and then sat in the bleachers for an hour. Entering the night air at 8,000 feet afterward was a sharp reminder. I caught the janitor turning out the lights, we searched the gym. We looked under the bleachers to no avail. A mere month of use and my gloves were gone! I am still sad. Even sadder now as I drive to work in my miss matched pair ( one stretchy and one ski glove); because, yes, I lost a single the other day. Maybe I should take up baseball again – afterall you only need one glove.
Thursday Thoughts
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow; creeps in the petty pace from day to day; to the last hour of recorded time; and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.
MacBeth – Shakespeare
I keep a pair of shoes in the car
Recently it has come to my attention that the definition of a girly girl has to do with how many purses and pairs of shoes one owns or acquires. I keep a pair of shoes in my car 365 days a year; so, what does that make me? A girly grandma? Or just an aging boy scout of the female variety? Probably the boy scout.
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My pair of shoes in the car fall in the same category as the measuring tape in my purse
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the sleeping bag in the hatch of my Alpine Subaru
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the bottled water and crackers in the trunk; the dog leash in the storage container with the jumper cables and windshield washer fluid
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grab-and-go hiking first aid pack. I live in the mountains. I must be prepared. For the last five years I have carried my hiking boots in the car six months of the year and then traded them for my waterproof duck boots in the summer when I am more apt to need the leather boots for hiking and walking each day. Keeping a pair of weather worthy boots in the car is as essential as having a cell phone.
This year the habit has changed drastically. I still keep a pair of shoes in the car, but they are dress shoes. I really like my dress shoes and my dress boots. They match my new purse perfectly. I also enjoy the warmth and security of other boots. Because of all the snow we have accumulated at the cabin, it is impossible to get from the car to the door in anything but the snow boots and sometimes the addition of no-slip-grips. When I arrive at the professional city job each morning I shed my duck boots, peel off the boot socks and slip into my topstitched, 2 inch heeled, leather office mocs –or my black
Wellington boots with the cowboy shanks. After leaving the office at night I reverse the process before heading up the mountain.
On my lunch hour today I found an irresistible pair of grey patent leather open toes on the clearance rack. I’ll probably keep them in the car too. Even in the summer it will be difficult to navigate from cabin to car in 4 inch wedges. Somebody needs to design a shoe rack that fits in my Subaru! A good girly grandma is always prepared!
She’s a lumberjack and She’s OK!
On Blogging verses Logging. Potato, Potahto; tomato, Tomahto; Blogging or Logging. We be logging, folks. Sorry I did not write today. We were running low on firewood so I helped the spouse haul several sled loads up the hill from a neighboring property where he felled trees. Our icicles have grown and the snow has melted down; yet, while keeping that sled on track and supporting the logs from rolling WAAAAAY downhill I sank into the drifts so far I felt a lot like the wishbone of a Thanksgiving turkey before I extracted myself, crawled and trudged on up the hill.