After the ice storm Saturday I was very aggressive about cleaning off my car. Very aggressive. Sunday, after all the stores had closed, Tom and Michael found a piece of the plastic part of the wiper blade frozen to the hood of my car. The holiday meant I couldn’t replace it and would have to bag out on my only plans for Christmas Day. Boo.
Yesterday I finally was able to get it replaced by the girl working at Auto Zone after I announced to her “I would like whatever is your very best wiper blade” like some kind of blade-needing royalty. (She put it on my car so fast wrote her into my will.)
It was so nice to leave the house! Buy floor cleaner! Have a guy explain how I can install my own replacement floor on top of my current one, which seems like more work than just using floor cleaner!
There are a few things in life that are worth paying any price to have, and both are for wiping: soft 2-ply toilet paper, and wiper blades that can handle New England winter road muck. Splurge and wipe well.
This morning, while looking for something in my bedroom a pile of stuff that should not be in a pile but hey, that’s my life, I found the lined leather mittens I’ve been looking for all winter. So that is certainly handy on the first day of spring. It’s about as appropriate as finding your lost bathing suit in October.
So let’s see a show of hands; do I leave the mittens in the pile, because now I know where they are, or do I take a chance and move them into the big bag of hats and mittens that will soon have to be washed and put away? It could be risky, either way.
My desk at home is next to a window, which if you know me, is practically a need, not a want. I love looking out the window. This morning I was rewarded with a trash truck ballet, in which two different trash trucks slid and skidded and basically had no control. Ya, it’s slippery on my street. No sanding again, which is nice. Eventually the truck that slid past the end of my street was able to get itself turned around before the other one almost took out a small snow bank. Eventually they just parked the two trucks and all stood in the street talking, probably asking themselves if it was really worth it to come in to work this morning.
Photo evidence of the two trucks out my window.
Feel free to check out the whole set on Flickr.
You know, usually this time of year, we bitch and moan and crab about how sick we are of winter, and how we wish it was April or May already. Me, I’m fondly remembering the warm, lush days of January. Whoda thunk it. Well me. I remember thunking to myself “Boy, we’re going to be really sorry when all this ends and we get real winter temperatures.”
My nasal passages are so angry with me, we aren’t on speaking terms. I need to swing by the Hallmark Store to buy them a card.
“When you’re blue
And you don’t know
Where to go to
Why don’t you go where saline sits
I’ll give you a spritz.”
I hope it doesn’t have a picture of a flower on the front. My sinuses really hate flowers.