Don't Have Danish Wedding Cookies for Supper

Slathering the lotion on my hands, and smearing it on my face I head out to my truck. It's been warming up for awhile now, and the hot air is blasting. In and out of the truck, from the icy blasts of Connecticut/Maine doing their arctic acts, or becoming Sunday dinner as I roast for hours in the dry poison air of my truck heater on Route 495.

The lotion is barely doing it's job. My poor skin looks like an old leather bag sitting at the bottom of a box in the attic.

And how many Chapsticks must one buy? Where do they go? I regularly pick one up at the counter when I'm checking out, (you know the stash somebody with unquestionable wisdom keeps there in the winter) but when I notice that my lips are feeling like what Sean's sock looks like when I find it under the bed, that Chapstick is nowhere to be found. I'll come across about 7 Chapsticks this spring when I start cleaning things out, like compartments in the car, underwear drawer, winter coat pockets, computer bag...

The dogs have made no audible complaints about this weather. However, their feelings of discomfort are clearly evident. Nikko doesn't last long out there. Not even enough time for me to finish my cigarette. Poor Rocko. This morning? He had quite a hard time with the icy surface of the snow. He kept sliding and trying to stop himself. The hard chunks of displaced snow from heavy foot steps are like shrapnel on the surface, and he was avoiding the pain of running into them. At one point, he sat his little butt down to rest his legs and little paws, but the veterinarian had shaved his butt earlier this week to check out a little problem. In one nanosecond he had popped his butt right back up like a muffin from the toaster. He gingerly tipped toed, with little bitty steps, back to the driveway and up the steps to the back door. I'm glad my bathroom is inside.

We know that the weather is the topic of conversation used mostly because there is nothing else to talk about. There isn't much more to bring up...

Last night I stopped at Job Lot, to see if they might have a decent puzzle. Nope. But they had pot holders, a nice grill brush for cleaning the grill, some hiking poles, iris bulbs, a CSI game that looked pretty cool, etc. etc. I LOVE Job Lot. Sean called when I was in Job Lot. He was in tears. He's been trying so hard, I believe, to stay clean. He's been working for a not very nice man. I don't know who I despise more, him or my former husband. They seem cut out of the same material. But it was a job. Sean said he couldn't take it anymore, could he please come home. I said 'yes'. Which goes against the agreement Paul and I had about Sean coming home. Boy, am I in big trouble - on a couple of levels.

Last night for supper I had a few pieces of beef jerky. (Job Lot). I didn't care for it, left it for Sean. I also had some pistachios, a big Butterfinger bar, and Keebler Danish Wedding Cookies (all Job Lot finds). Why oh why do I do that?????????

There are ice fishermen across the lake. It's so cool, because the sound travels across the ice. Even though they look like little dots, I can hear their footsteps in the snow. I haven't been down to our shore to check it out. I'm sure that by now it's frozen enough for skating. Unfortunately, there are a couple things that need to come together for good skating - a solid week or so of below freezing temps, little to no wind so the surface stays smooth, and no snow during the freezing process. The last time this criteria came to be was about three years ago. But maybe the snow on the lake surface is shovelable, and the surface below is smooth. I'll check it out later. I am looking forward to the incredible sounds of the ice cracking - it is an unbelievable sound, that is more felt in the ribs than heard with the ears. Deep and melodious, it resonates from the bowl of land which holds the water below and vibrates the entire icy surface.

Little Robin red breast was sitting on the berry bush outside the window this morning. This is the second time this winter I've seen a robin in the yard, and the first winter I've ever noticed a robin hanging around. Did he forget the way south??

Time to refresh my weekend coffee, real coffee, with caffeine and everything, (tea all week long, coffee on weekends - keeps it special), cop a quick smoke and work through my betrayal of our agreement with my husband. I love coffee. My stomach hurts.

Peace