winter

Dear friends,
First of all, I wanted to apologize for my absence. For the past week and a half, I’ve been battling bronchitis. Many sleepless nights have ensued and I’m afraid it’s time to admit that it has whipped my derriere. Breathing has become so difficult, I’m using an asthma inhaler even though I’m not asthmatic.

But not to fear, friends.
I’m beat but not broken.

(Although something tells me that the surgical mask wearers the Son and the Significant Other would say otherwise.)

Tonight, feeling like I can finally breathe a little better, I decided it was time to pull myself up by the bootstraps, actually, by my piggy house slippers, and tell all of you how much I’ve missed you.

Please forgive my absence to your blogs.
I hope to be get better soon and look forward to reading all your posts.

I also want to express my gratitude to all who have emailed and sent Twitter messages asking how I am. Please know that you are lovely, lovely, lovely and I am very appreciative for your concern.

And now I want to leave you with a post I wrote before bronchitis snared me in its clutches.

It’s been two weeks since then but I think you will still enjoy it.

I’ll be back as soon as I can take a full breath.
Until then, enjoy!

———————————–********————————————

I find it ironic that someone who loves technology and gadgets as much as I do, can’t afford to have any.

I feel cheated.

Wanting.

And let’s face it, in a time where people can instantly post from their cell phones to the net and post photos using cutesy apps like Instagram, I feel deprived.

Yet, not one to cry over what I don’t have (though I find complaining to be the perfect way to channel my frustration), I decided to take matters into my own hands.

The photos you are about to peruse are not “sent from my iPhone.”

Heck, they’re not even sent.
I had to upload them with a USB cable.

Nevertheless, when life gives you lemons, you make a lemon pound cake.

Or a lemon meringue pie.

Or a lemon granita.

You get the picture.

Speaking of pictures…

These sightings took place in the spell of four days.

During this time, we went from cold, to colder, to snow.

All photos taken with my barely alive but still kicking Nokia.

Why yes, there's a swan in the canal, Roxy! — Why yes, there’s a swan in the canal, Roxy!

Thoughts, anyone? — Because this is the only place Barbie needs to be!

Which is your favorite?

XOXO,

Today I heard the ten words any woman wants to hear.

And they’re not:

“Do you want to marry me and bear my children?”

Or, “The jet is fueled up. We leave for Paris tonight.”

Or even, “No, your butt does not look fat in those jeans.”

Instead, I heard the Significant Other say, “They are coming to fix the heating system on Saturday.”

I’m certain any woman who’s survived two winters without heat will agree that these ten little words are better than hearing, “You are way hotter than any model from Victoria’s Secret.”

These ten words made me do the happy dance.

They made me run around the living room screaming, there is a God!

They inspired me do a fist bump with the Son whilst saying, “Yes!” in perfect unison.

However, our exuberant state came to an abrupt halt when we heard the Significant Other say, “The repair crew will be here at eight.”

An ominous silence filled the room.

The Son: “Eight, as in eight in the evening?”

Significant Other: “Very funny. Eight as in eight in the morning.”

Me: “No can do, brother. I need at least twenty minutes for my body to thaw and there’s no way I’m getting up at 7:40am on a Saturday.”

Significant Other: “Fine. I’ll call them and cancel.”

The Son: “Not so fast. Mom, you’re the one who always says, ‘drastic times call for drastic measures,’ so ‘woman’ up and set your alarm clock.”

Significant Other: “Look on the bright side, people. Come Saturday we won’t have to wear scarves, mittens, and five layers of clothing in the house.”

The Son: “Aw, I won’t be able to see my breath when I whistle anymore.”

Me: “I won’t have to turn the oven on to heat the kitchen while I make coffee.”

The Significant Other: “We won’t have to swaddle Roxy in three blankets and pray she’s still alive when we wake up in the morning.”

The Son: “I won’t have to wear those hideous long johns.”

Me: “I won’t have to wear those itchy flannel pajamas.”

Significant Other: “I won’t have to wear a hat to bed.”

Me: “Life will go back to the way it used to be.”

The Son: “What’s that like exactly? I think the cold may have numbed the part of my brain where memories are stored.”

Me: “You know, warm heat flowing through our home; laughter and conversation instead of teeth chattering and cursing.”

Significant Other: “Oh, and they’re changing the water heater as well.”

Me: “Oh my! I feel like one of those grand prize Lotto winners!”

Significant Other: “Again, don’t get too excited. You won’t be able to use the bathroom or shower for eight hours.”

The Son: “And when nature calls, what then?”

Significant Other: “Knock on the door of the neighbor with the snowman broom. As far as your mother is concerned, she owes us for having that thing up all year.”

Me: “What time did you say they were coming on Saturday?”

Significant Other: “At eight sharp.”

Me: “Like I said, I’ll need twenty minutes to thaw.”