Winter Wanders In

I'm slow to get going this morning. Still getting my second cup of coffee down, and it's 9:30 already. I should be dressing and leaving for town. On days like this I'm particularly glad to have the kind of job and employer I do — as long as I get the work done in good time, nobody's breathing down my neck to be there at a certain hour.

My sister Joan has already left me a comment this morning and so now, after just being at her place, I can picture her at her computer with her own cup of coffee.

This time when I went to Kelowna, I packed very lightly and left space for the hand-me-downs she always sends back with me. (I rarely buy new clothes; between Joan and Cathy, I am well stocked and don't have to shop often.) Among the loot were two tight, stretchy dresses made of T-shirt material; I am using one of them for a nightie. It's perfect: short enough not to wrap around my thighs and irritate me; long enough to keep my ass warm.

Too pretty to be just a nightgown, but ... .

My shoulders were cold in bed this morning, though. Time to throw another blanket on, I guess. Wouldn't you think that the thermostat, set at 68F for the night, would keep a girl warm enough under five layers of covers (including the sheet)? Apparently not.

And now ... will I take my ski pants off the hangar and start wearing them today? Is it too soon? Also, I need new ones. Bought the ones I have from the Sears catalogue last year and they were too big for me then -- yes, even the small size -- but I kept them because it was more convenient to, and wore them too, just rolled up the cuffs -- but I wouldn't mind finding a pair that actually fits and giving these away. Alas it would mean I have to go shopping ... which means I'll probably forget all about it before that ever happens.

Oh the trials and tribulations of Kate, eh?!

From this blog five years ago:
from an old handwritten journal, when Everett was five years old:
Still in bed. Have to get up and help Emil dress in eight minutes. Everett’s beside me, pissed off because he can’t get married yet and have a wedding. And he asked me how babies are made (and I gave him an introductory explanation) because he is definite about wanting to be a poppa when he grows up… He got his 8”x10” school picture yesterday and was excited enough to show it around the class (the aide told me) and then all around the café where I took the boys for lunch. “I’m handsome, right?”
What a laugh this is now!
But a perfect example of a reason I can't just throw these old journals in the garbage.

I'd like to say that the landscape still looks like these pictures, but the rain we had yesterday turned to snow and this morning there is a white layer of it on the ground. Unless the snow melts, the photo above is already old news.