What I Like About Winter

For several weeks now, I have been composing a blog post in my head entitled "What I Hate About Winter." My list goes something like this:

1. Cold feet.
2. Dry, cracked skin.
3. Inversions.
4. Bitingly cold winds.
5. Going to work in the dark, and coming home in the dark.
6. Having to start your car 10 minutes before you are planning to leave.
7. Constantly dirty cars.
8. Static electricity in my hair.
9. Icy roads.
10. Gas bills.

However, in the interests of trying to focus on the positive, I have decided to retitle this post, "What I Like About Winter" (even though I have to suppress a shudder just typing it) and revamp my list a little. So, here's the new, revised list for my cheery, upbeat and positive blog post:

1. Heating pads. I guess I must have really poor circulation or something, because my feet are seriously cold all winter. Even sitting here at my computer, with my feet comfortably encased in socks and sneakers, they are cold. BUT....when I am getting ready for bed, I turn on a heating pad and tuck it between the sheets of my bed to warm things up. When I climb in bed, my feet get their own little tropical island vacation down there with the heating pad. I should rig up little hammocks for them. It's paradise!
2. Long, hot baths. Dry skin is my perfect excuse for locking myself in the bathroom, dosing the bath water with lovely moisturizing oils, and basking in some self-indulgent me time. Throw in a good book (well, not literally, that would ruin the book), and I might not emerge for hours. Ask the neighbors up the road if you can borrow their potty, I'm busy....
3. Bright blue winter skies. It seems like around here, there are more inversion days than clear days, and the continuously smoggy, colorless skies get depressing. But when we get one of those clear days, with the snow-topped mountains looking like brand-new, crisp paper cutouts against a sky so blue it hurts....well, it's breathtaking. There are no words.
4. Getting blown away! Those winter winds are merciless--they find every chink and weak spot in your defenses against the cold. But they also blow away the inversions and clear out the smog. I guess every cloud...er, wind....has a silver lining. I think I'm mixing my meteorological metaphors. Let's move on.
5. The day after winter solstice. I truly HATE how much darkness there is in the winter time. I think in another life I must have been a bear, because I feel a great instinct to hibernate until spring. But the one saving grace of all this darkness is that winter solstice is the worst of it--starting the very next day, we get a smidgeon more light each day. Literally the light at the end of a (dark) tunnel.
6. Seat warmers. Need I say more? What could be better on a frosty cold morning (or evening) than sitting down on a warm seat? I love me some toasted buns.
7. Window defrosters. My car may be dirty all winter long, but at least I can see out the windows! And I don't have to stand outside in the bitter cold scraping them. Technology is grand.
8. ...................ummmmm, I got nothin'. I HATE STATIC ELECTRICITY IN MY HAIR.
9. Long winter naps. Naps are great any time of the year, but when the roads are icy, you might just as well stay inside and snooze. It's a community service, people--think of the untold dangers you could inflict upon yourself and others if you were to venture out on those roads! Do it for your country.
10. Fireplaces. Seriously, cold winter weather demands that you stop whatever you are doing, grab a warm blanket and a good book, and snuggle up before a cozy fire. In fact, it's time for me to do that now. I'm outta here!

Bleeding it out

"Writing is easy, you just sit down at the typewriter, open up a vein, and bleed it out drop by drop." --Red Smith

We had a client come into work this week who is preparing to move to Kuwait. During her visit, she shared some information about Kuwait. According to her, is a very wealthy country due to their vast oil reserves, and great number of citizens live on the money generated by the sale of oil. However, by law, all citizens of Kuwait are required to hold a job. So those citizens who live off the oil simply send their servants to work for them, in their name. My husband and I were talking about this, and he mentioned (bless his Muse-like heart), "That sounds like a great idea for a book."

Of COURSE it's a great idea for a book! And immediately my brain took off in a dozen different directions--all the directions you could take that concept and develop it into a gripping story. And my writer's brain, once it got going on developing story ideas, couldn't seem to quit. It started revisiting story ideas that I have worked on in the past, some of them complete, some not. It started rethinking plots, reacquainting itself with characters, and getting so overfull with fantastic ideas I felt like I was going to explode if I didn't release the safety valve and let off some pressure.

So last night, I sat down to write some of my ideas. Surely, with my brain stuffed so full, it would be easy! But as I sat with my fingers hovering over the keyboard, I discovered that my safety valve must be faulty, because the thoughts and ideas did NOT come gushing out as I expected, as I wanted. They dripped out slowly, lethargically, reluctantly, like blood that has already begun to coagulate. I got a couple of pages written, and gave up for the day, exhausted.

I have brain constipation. My thoughts and ideas are all jammed up. Anyone have a laxative?

What's your super power?

If you could have one super power, what would it be?

I've heard this question a lot, most commonly used as an ice-breaking, get-to-know-you question. It seems like everyone's immediate answer is either "flying" or "invisibility," but neither of those really appeal to me. I can just imagine what my hair would look like after a few minutes in the wild blue yonder. Not a pretty picture. And I've always kind of wondered if Superman didn't get a crick in his neck from soaring horizontally. If I had to fly, I would choose to fly the way Mary Poppins does--upright. But why choose flying at all, when you could opt for teleporting? That's my kind of travel.

And what's the big draw to invisibility? I shudder to think of the havoc I would wreak if I couldn't see my own feet.

I think the power to breathe under water would be very nice. Imagine being able to snorkel or scuba dive without any breathing apparatus. I won't say I have a fear of water, but I have a very, very deep respect for it. I don't like being submerged for more than a couple of seconds. The power to breathe under water would change that.

The power to control your hearing would be nice--super-strength hearing when you need it, no hearing at all for those moments when the kids are whining, the dog is barking, and you have no Calgon to take you away.

The power of persuasion would be awesome, especially with recalcitrant children and grumpy traffic cops. That's a scary one, though--it would be all too easy to let that power corrupt you.

Super speed? Nah, that doesn't really appeal to me. What I would REALLY like is a super metabolism, so I could eat whatever I wanted and keep a trim figure.

Ultimately, though, I think the greatest super power just might be imagination. I believe that untold, unimagined super powers lie dormant in each of us, untapped potential just waiting to be released, if only we can imagine it. Teleportation? No problem! Not only that, telekinesis, telepathy, and a bunch of other tele- words. I may never teleport anywhere myself, but there's no reason a character in my book can't. For now, that's enough super power for me.

What would your super power be?

Country Living

I live on a couple of acres at the end of a dirt road, surrounded on three sides by fields and pastures. There are some amazing benefits to living in the country--wonderful views, plenty of room, no traffic. Sitting on my front lawn with the western sun painting long shadows across the lawn, watching water fowl on the nearby pond, listening to the horses nicker as they nibble their dinner, feels pretty darn close to heaven.

But there are some distinct disadvantages too. When I need to borrow a cup of sugar or an egg, the nearest neighbor is almost half a mile up the road. Our cars are permanently dusted with dirt in the summer, frosted with mud in the winter. Snowplows never make it to our house.

And then there are the practical inconveniences which arise from time to time. Four days ago, as I was washing my hands, I noticed the water pressure dwindling rapidly. Within seconds, it was nothing more than a trickle. Because we are so rural, we are not connected to the city's water or sewer system. (Septic tanks--now that's a topic for another post.) Instead of city water, we have our own artesian well. We have had occasional problems in the winter with the well pump freezing, which causes it to stop working. But with the outside temperature hovering in the 90s, I didn't think freezing was the problem.

So we contacted the well guy. (I asked my husband what the gentleman's actual profession is called, but if it has a name, it's unknown to both of us. Hence, he is "the well guy.") He came out, looked at it, said it needed a part. By the next afternoon, it was fixed, and hallelujah, we had running water again.

For a few hours.

Then it was back to a trickle. We called the well guy again, and he came and replaced a different part. Success! Running water!

Until a few hours later, when it returned to a trickle once more.

We called the well guy for the third time. This time the diagnosis is that the pump is bad (really? no kidding?) and we need a new one. The well guy is supposed to be here some time today to replace it.

Meanwhile, we have unwashed dishes stacked up all over the kitchen and hampers of dirty laundry lining the hallway. And taking a shower? Well, for the last four days, there hasn't been any such thing. The term "shower" implies water coming out in a steady stream with enough force to actually remove the soap from your body. What has actually been transpiring is a combination of a sponge bath, a contortionist act, and Chinese water torture. It takes a good five minutes just to get your entire body wet enough to lather, so you can imagine how long it takes to rinse.

And washing hair? The males in the family have managed to make it work, but I haven't dared to try. With my long hair, I would have to stand under the trickle for hours, and I would still never get all the shampoo out. I did manage to get my hair washed during the one of periods when the pump was "fixed," so it's not totally disgusting yet. And updos conceal a lot. Still, a French braid can only go so far, so I'm really hoping that the well guy manages to pull off a permanent fix soon.

In the mean time, I guess I should be grateful that we have at least a trickle. And that even though it's just a trickle, the toilets still flush. Because as annoying as well problems are for us country folk, septic tank problems are a lot worse. Trust me.

Getting off the rusty nail

Years ago, when I was going through a major life change, I went to a seminar. The presenter used an analogy that always stuck with me. He asked us to imagine an old hound dog lying on a wooden porch. The dog's chin lies directly over a worn place in the planks, and a rusty nail is poking through the wood--right into the dog's tender flesh. It hurts. The old dog whimpers and whines and longs for the pain to subside. But the dog continues to lie in the same place, and the nail continues to cause him pain. Why doesn't the dog move?

Because it's easier not to.

The presenter of the seminar explained that so often, we are like the old hound dog. We are not happy with where we are. It is causing us discomfort or pain. But instead of doing something about it, we stay in the same place, doing what we have always done. And nothing changes.

Lately, I guess I've turned into an old hound dog. I have been bemoaning the fact that I never have time to write, that my life is too crazy, that some day when things calm down, I will start writing again. I've been lying on the porch, miserable about my fate, wondering why my life doesn't get better.

Well, it's time to get off the rusty nail.

For as long as I can remember, writing has been a passion of mind. I have always thought of myself as a writer. So it's time for this writer to start writing.