Anyone who knows me knows that I'll believe we peeps here in New Jersey will get significant snow when I see it all falling and more importantly, accumulating on the ground. Actually, our local weather persons have taken to calling what they used to call significant snow, "plow-able"snow. I heard one of ABC's weather peeps say that there are three terms he used when it comes to describing snowfall:"nuisance, plow-able, and biblical." Those are the words he used.
I heard another of ABC's weather peeps also use the word, "plow-able". I think they want us to know that "plow-able" snow is about 3 - 8 inches. HA! That's a baby amount of snow. This is probably the only time of year when I would like to live in a place that's at a higher altitude (not that much coder, because I don't like to be really cold.) Peeps who know me also know that I'd rather be too cold than too hot and that's true. But while I really don't like to be too cold, I absolutely and utterly hate being too hot. I hate it. I detest, abhor, loathe and despise too much heat. I have always disliked it - since I was a child. But since the advent of lovely menopause and the truly awful hot flashes that come with it, I have too warm all the time! My husband does not like when I go outside in the winter in just my shirtsleeves. He always wants me to wear a coat. I can't. Hell, I can't even wear socks. Ever. Not inside the house or outside - they make me too hot. I am a diabetic and because I am, my excellent doctor, Dr. Dawn Calamari* want me to wear white socks all the time, outside, with shoes, and inside, even without shoes!! I was at work one day at the YMCA Child Care Center where I used to work, and I came into the play area where our charges were bouncing around. Literally. The gym equipment they were using was made from large pieces of dense foam covered in bright primary colored cloth. The squares, rectangles, triangles, cylinders and balls were about between 3 and 8 feet and the kids could tumble around safely. Ah. I've drifted away again. While I'm here I'll say this about my Dr. Calamari: both Bill and I affectionately think of her as and privately call her, Doctor Squid, in a completely respectful and loving way.
Back to the subject of hating being too hot. I came into the play area, joining my partner teacher Miss Christine (to my Miss Ellie) ;o) and sat down. Immediately, she said, "Miss Ellie! You have socks on! Why do you have socks on?" I told her why and she nodded, telling me that I should definitely follow my doctor's instructions. I agreed, sighing. I would sure try. Fifteen minutes later, after snapping at a teacher and two of my lovely littlies, I excused myself and went inside to take of the freaking socks!!
They make me feel too hot!
The worst part of the many bad parts of hot flashes, like chills when you have sweat pouring off your body, night sweats and the flush the you feel coming from your toes up to your head, is the feeling I have right after I've taken a shower.
Like every woman peep I know, I have a bathing ritual. After a refreshing shower in my "Cripple Shower" (which I'll talk about another time) and I've unwrapped the huge bath sheet, toweled off, dried my hair and done the body oil, deodorant and powder part and left the bathroom to go to my room, always kept cooler than the rest of the house, only to be hit by a big hot flash. My hair, previously dried off, is now dripping with sweat which is also trickling down my neck, between my breasts, etc. Aaaarrrggghhhh!!
I want to take another shower immediately, but I know that if I do, the same damn thing will happen again. I have learned over the past few years that if I drink a glass of ice cold water right away, the hot flash is not as bad as it could be. It's sort of cooling my body from the inside out while being in a cool room. I do have the most understanding husband. He knows that I need my environment to be cool, if not cold, so he just uses more blankets and tries to stay out of the wind. I always have my ceiling fan on, day and night and from April to December, I use my air conditioner.
The one we had in our downstairs rooms broke last year and we weren't able to replace it. I stayed upstairs almost all the time last summer. When I did come downstairs, I'd have to change my clothes when I went back up to my air/conditioned splendor bedroom. I hope we can get an air conditioner for our downstairs area this year. It has to be a large one, because we need it to cool our large kitchen. It opens into our living room. When we have a large enough a/c and it's working at its best, it cools our living room, our kitchen and all the way up our staircase to the second floor. Along with the a/c in my bedroom and the one in the guest bedroom, which we are about to to make into a reading room, I am cool and comfortable all summer long and well into the fall.
Jeez. I hope we get a new air conditioner.
I am probably the only person in New Jersey who is worrying about having enough air conditioning this summer, tonight. Every other peep is worrying about snow. My Mom, being an elderly woman, is all upset by the prospect of snow of any duration or amount.
Here in this state, the mere mention of the "s" word send elderly peeps, man or woman everywhere, from small village to large city, scurrying to the supermarket and/or the local home and garden center to stock up on everything from milk to rock salt. Snow sends elderly peeps into a dither. I don't apologize for me love of snow - I know I'm in the minority, even among young peeps. But I am different when it comes to snow. Since I'm disabled - handicapped, to put it another way, I don't have to go outside in the snow. There's a downside to that, because I can only see the snow from the window. It's been years since I've been able to stand outside in the middle of blowing, furiously falling snow. I miss that. On the upside, I don't have to drive in the snow and I don't have to shovel snow. Of course, I won't allow my husband to shovel snow, either, simply because he's over sixty. Our son has volunteered to stay overnight at our house tonight so he can shovel the snow for Bill. The last time it snowed, we waited for a neighborhood kid to come by to offer to shovel the snow - any kid, at all!But no one came. No one. Not one kid. Zip. Nada. A big, fat, goose egg of a zero.
It seems that kids these days just get anything they need from their parents, so why should they have to work for it. But whatever the reason, people who shouldn't be shoveling snow for medical reasons or age are forced to shovel snow anyway, or have to stay home from work. Bill couldn't stay home from work, so he shoveled as little as he could, and drove out. When he came back home, he had to speed up to drive over the snow in the driveway. I'm very happy that my son will be there to help his Dad. Since I'm here with my Mom, she won't have to go over to my brother's house, which she usually does if there is a bit storm coming, She's always afraid that the power will go out, and she'd be really worried if it did and she was here alone. The two of us will be stronger together than either one of us would be on our own.
I am going to make her a pineapple pie this afternoon. It's her very favorite pie. If it weren't for real, French-style chocolate mousse, I think it would be her favorite dessert.
At left is a picture of my street in the snow.
She says that she will only order chocolate mousse in a French restaurant because she has always since she has always been disappointed when she ordered it at any other type of restaurant. I know how to make the real mousse au chocolat, and I will make it for her the next time I come.Yesterday, she got a package in the mail. For the first time since I've known her, (my entire sixty years) she ordered something through the mail. She ordered one of those brownie pans with the tart pan-like bottoms and the part that cuts the brownies into 16 even pieces. We'll definitely have to test the pan, of course, so I think we'll make brownies, too. ;o)
Well - I've been up overnight again. It's almost 8am. I think I began this post at about 11 last night. Gotta go now.
I'm just sayin'
