Clarity And Cold (Sounds Like A Country Song)

I was chatting with a friend last night who had read my blog post from Monday.  She misunderstood my post and thought that we had cocktails at the baby shower. She found it interesting that a baptist church would serve cocktails. She also wondered why a new mom would open a Cuisinart at a baby shower. 

So in the interest of clarity, let me go on the record and say we had nothing stronger than the ginger ale in the pink punch and that my references were to a BRIDAL SHOWER which WAS NOT AT THE LOCAL BAPTIST CHURCH. (I may also add that I didn't partake of any of those cocktails.)

However, I must say a Cuisinart can make a nice gift at any stage in life.

Now that I have all the housekeeping done, let me move on to the rest of my week.

Monday was spent at the doctor's office, two in fact.  Nothing serious. Just routine stuff.  At first, I was kind of bummed that I had scheduled two appointments for the same day. Once the day was over, I was glad that it only took up one day of the week instead of two.

I'm old. Doctor's appointments have managed to make the blog. Next thing you know I'll be carrying all my pills in a Ziploc bag and talking about the weather.

It has been cold.

On Tuesday morning, I woke up to freezing temperatures.  School was delayed due to weather problems and if it had not been for a text message from a friend, I would have been the only mom dropping off her kid at car line. I knew it was cold, but I didn't know how cold.

Until I noticed the low water pressure.  Then Jessie came inside with a muddy face and paws.  Not a good sign. 

I walked to the alley and discovered my fears were validated. The valves connecting the main line to the house line had frozen and burst. Water was gushing out and all the birds were playing in it.  A call to the water company brought a repairman who was able to shut off the geyser and still give us access to water.  That afternoon the Sprinkler Guy (as he is officially know) fixed the valve, reinsulated the box, and even covered it in dirt for extra protection. 

Whew.

Wednesdays are usually our horseback lessons and the temperatures were still near freezing with wind chills in the 20's.  Daughter's instructor always gives us the option to cancel for poor weather, but my daughter decided to cowgirl up and ride anyway.  Me, being the deranged, I mean supportive mother that I am, agreed to let her ride as long as she wore layers, gloves, and bundled up.

Her instructor also agreed. One other adult student was riding and the third student opted out because of the weather (smart girl.)  Bundled up, we all headed out to the arena. I huddled there on the stool next to her instructor as we discussed horseback riding. New Mexico weather, and the old show Green Acres.

Then she turned to me and said, "Are we certifiable?"

"Yes," I said through chattering teeth and blue lips.

Each time the students rounded the corner, the instructor would check on them. They were cold, but they wanted to continue.

As it tends to do in New Mexico, the temperatures dropped, the wind direction changed, and in the words of Allison's horseback riding instructor, "It's no longer cold. It's BITTER."

Then, she called out,"Bring 'em in, girls." 

The strong, steel magnolia Melanie was proud of toughing it out but the real Melanie breathed a sigh of relief.  Because it was so cold, I could actually see that sigh of relief.

Sometimes you have to cowgirl up, but even cowgirls know when to bring 'em in.

And wear thermals.

The Unknown History Of French Design and Why You Could Get Carded At Your Next Bridal Shower

I am drinking coffee and sitting at the computer (obvious) in my robe and slippers. The robe smells faintly of dog because Jessie loves to cuddle. It also smells faintly of my new perfume which could either be a good tool to mask the puppy smell or a very bad combination.

Either way I think I will throw it in the wash after I post this.

Legend has it (cough cough) that Coco Chanel was designing a perfume back in the 20's when she put in a request for "musk."  Her assistant was busy listening to Ragtime on her phonograph (the 20's version of Beyonce on the Ipod) when she misunderstood and thought she said "mutt."  This grave mistake was the catalyst for Chanel's assistant's new career as a dog groomer.

Or so I've heard.

So now it is exactly 7:30 AM and all I've done is go on and on about how badly I need to do laundry while I perpetuate rumors on the Internet about a famous designer and dog grooming.

Insert transition here.

Our weekend was pretty typical for us.  Daughter had a friend over after school on Friday.  They put on a play which they wrote themselves and may I just say that are so creative.  Later that night Daughter and I decided to have a slumber party which is really just us sleeping on the floor after watching a movie.  Or, in my case, me falling asleep on the floor while watching a movie.

We went to a baby shower for twins on Saturday.  I love baby showers, even now that I don't have a baby. Baby showers make me feel happy and nostalgic and I am always excited to see a new mom or mom-to-be waiting in anticipation. 

However, bridal showers only make me feel old.  Do you know that now they serve cocktails at bridal showers? I am baptist, so that would never have been a menu option for the ladies of the WMU, but it seems to be a growing trend to get a little tipsy while you open up your new Cuisinart. 

And I always thought the cheese straws were spicy.

Sunday was church, a quick stop at the grocery store, and a short walk and bike ride. It is getting cold here in New Mexico. Makes me want to stay in my robe all day.

Right after I wash it.

Like Kudzu, Only Not As Interesting

Legend has it that kudzu was brought to the South from Japan or somewhere to prevent soil erosion.  Well, guess what? It worked. Now you see kudzu all over the sides of highways and dirt roads in Alabama, Georgia, and any other state which breeds mosquitoes in Biblical proportions.

Not that there is a connection between kudzu and mosquitoes.

At least, I don't think there is.

Kudzu spreads like a bad strain of pinkeye (not sure if there is a good strain of pinkeye.) It covers anything remotely stationary, killing or ruining it. Bridges, trees, roadsides, really slow moving old people. 

Where was I?
Oh, yeah.

I'm not dead.  I'm here. I'm alive. What started out as writer's block ended up turning into an unintended bloggy break. Several of you emailed me to see if I was doing alright.  I appreciate that.  I even had some family and friends ask me if I'm OK.  Yes, ma'am. I am.

Since I last posted, the following has happened.

Our dog Jessie was ill, well again, ill again, then well.  Now she is a perfectly "normal" growing pup who likes to eat bugs and smells like dog exactly 5 seconds after her bath.

I turned 40.  The Big One, Elizabeth.  Other than the bad food at Red Lobster, it was uneventful.

I am growing out my bangs.

So, as you can see, you haven't missed much.  However, I do pledge to keep on keeping on producing the same ole' drudgery about living in SmallTown and how much I miss Starbucks.

Like kudzu, I'm still around.

However, I promise not to choke out all of your evergreens. Or your Great Uncle Cleetus.