Did you have a good weekend—did you stay warm and safe and dry?
You know, any time there’s calamity afoot I feel the need to take roll call, to make certain we’re all present and accounted for. Sure, I know nary a thing about most of you. I do know, however, you’re represented by a dot on the map–and some of those dots are smack dab in the middle of some crazy shit.
An aside, this will be the day my aunt pops in to read the blog. It actually came up at a family gathering once:
Mom: I really like her blog . . . except when she swears.
Me: I do not swear on my blog.
Uncle: I didn’t know she swears on her blog.
Me: I don’t swear on my blog.
Aunt: Oh yes, she swears on her blog. I’ve seen it.
Please. I utter profanities around these parts maybe twice a year and only when appropriate. And let me tell you, floods and a ‘polar vortex’ are completely appropriate.
But I digress . . .
If only we lived closer–I’d whip us up some hot cocoa, we’d light a roomful of candles, and tell ghost stories. Like the time in the eighties when I had a certain pair of ‘fruit pants’—white, skin-tight pants in a cotton-polyester blend, adorned with giant, brightly colored fruit . . . and I wore them in public. Eek!
Then again, maybe it’s best we live a ways away–you might have a hard time beating that one.