I Left My Foot in the Snow...and other things I've Left Behind Elsewhere

I did what?!

There is something called Stabilicers, rubber attachments with metal posts for the ice, which you attach to your shoes, to prevent you from slipping and tripping. We had another ice storm on Thursday, but I didn't try them on until Friday and yesterday.

It's very cool to crunch the ice with confidence, knowing I don't have to cling to a stranger's car for dear life!:-) Walk anywhere! Stomp everywhere! Sock it to me, ice and snow!

I did not realize until early this morning, when hubby and I set out to Rite Aid to get our "freebates", that only one of my Stabilicers was on my shoe. What happened to the other? I know I put them on my shoes while on the bus, on the way home from the library yesterday. How could I NOT know it came off? I was thinking it had to come off while walking in the icy snow because they make a lot of noise walking on non-icy surfaces, like pavement. I would have to retrace my steps from the bus stop...

Outside, hubby and I looked and looked.

Lo and behold! In a small field separating the apt complex and the street, the lone empty "shoe" was lying on the icy snow close to the sidewalk, as if I had just slipped my hiking boot out of it, like a slipper. It looked so lonely there by itself! Who would've wanted to pick it up when it was only one side? I was NOT looking forward to walking lopsided, that's for sure! And you might imagine how put out I was this morning when I only discovered one attachment was on my shoe as I had just bought them last month and only worn them one day!

That wasn't the only thing I thought I lost yesterday. I wore a pair of dangly earrings to work, ones I bought myself for my b-day last year. One side keeps falling out. I thought maybe I left them at work--but thanks to hubby's good eyes, he spotted the missing half on the floor near my slippers.

I often lose a half of a pair of earrings. It makes me scared to think I may only have half a brain! But not really. I had gotten a third hole in my ear when I met my husband--as a "souvenir" of our first days together...on top of the fact that I kept losing half of many pairs of earrings and thus ended up with a lot of oddball earrings. Where would I put them? In a third hole! I got a fourth one two birthdays ago to mark my 40th year on earth, so now I'm even.:-)

What else have I forgotten? I've left behind my sweaty shirt in the ladies' locker room at my taekwondo school more than a few times (pew!), a favorite glittery pen at school, an extra grocery bag at the grocery store (the contents of which the employees returned to the shelves!%-0), and lord knows what else. Of course, I usually don't remember I've left something behind until I'm halfway home or all the way home from the place where I had left something.

It probably means that I was in too much of a hurry to get someplace else. My mind was elsewhere! How else would I be oblivious to the fact that my shoe attachment fell off while I was marching onward towards my apt? Or that I couldn't wait to get home and thus quickly swept everything off the desk (actually, massage table) that I thought was mine? Or that I was in a hurry to catch the bus and left my sweaty shirt hanging in the locker room?

Maybe I should take better heed of all the buddhist writings I've been reading lately. Zen master and poet Thich Nhat Hanh writes,

"Every morning, when we wake up, we have twenty-four brand new hours to live. What a precious gift! We have the capacity to live in a way that these twenty-four hours will bring peace, joy, and happiness to ourselves and others."

(from Peace is in Every Step)

I think that the more I realize this, the more challenging it is to attain a calm sense of mind and keep distractions at bay. Why do I believe this? Because I understand that I can choose to be mindful of my thoughts or not.

Better yet, when I feel I'm in a hurry, I ought to think of my fil (father in-law) at the dinner table, when he usually says, "I ain't going anywhere--are you? Are we in a hurry?" To which everyone else will say no, and he'll reply, "I didn't think so. Let's eat!"
:-)

Congealed Watery Particles

Jack. Charming day it has been, Miss Fairfax.

Gwendolen. Pray don’t talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing. Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain that they mean something else. And that makes me so nervous.

Jack. I do mean something else.

Gwendolen. I thought so. In fact, I am never wrong.

--Act I of The Importance of Being Earnest (Part 2), by Oscar Wilde

I do mean to talk about something else other than weather.

I thought so. In fact, I am never wrong when expressing my love of snow.

Snow! Yes...talking about weather is boring beyond belief...but sometimes, Mother Nature brings us breathtaking beauty. As in the case of falling snow. I am mesmerized when I watch it falling down, coating the whole world white around me.

It is peaceful, quiet. When I am inside, I love to look out the window to watch. When I am outside, I am filled with wonder. Except perhaps during those times when I had to drive home during a blizzard--thanks to my former company, I, which seemed to be the last employer in town to let its employees go home in inclement weather without fail.

What can be more fun than stomping around in snow?! Making a snowman or snowlady?:-) If it's gonna be bitterly cold out there, might as well have some fun! You can't build a snowman in summer!

I could easily complain about bitter cold. But I don't like to complain. It's enough to hear other people waste their breath to complain. Just layer up: put on more clothes if you have to go outside, for goodness sakes! Or is it goodness' sake? Whatever!

On the other hand, you would not want to be around me in the heat of summer. Excessive heat will put me in a foul mood in no time at all. Hot weather makes me HOT tempered!%-0 With heat, there's nowhere to go, especially if you live in a humid climate. Unlike winter, where you can put on more clothing to stay warm--in summer, you practically have to strip to cool off! You can go into an air-conditioned room, but often, people will put their a/c on full blast...and then you get cold because you don't have much clothes on to start!

It is miserable to be hot and sweaty and clammy. In my mind, I think: is this what it's like in the fiery depths of Hell, if indeed it does exist? It's hard to be productive, mentally or physically, when you're hot and bothered.

On the other hand, when you're shivering in the cold, you can at least move around to generate heat! When you're hot, you feel like a slug. A useless lump on a log. If you're home, you can force yourself to do unpleasant household tasks for the sake of keeping warm--or engage in that long-delayed exercise routine you promised yourself because you lack self-discipline (me!). OR, sit and cuddle in your favorite chair or sofa and escape into your favorite book.:-)

Can you tell I'm a winter person? For all my shivering, I'd sooner put up with freezing rain, sleet, snow and ice than hot, humid weather. Yes! Even ice. Ice that caused my car wheels to slide, ice that made me fall not once, but three times in my 13 years of living on the east coast. I'd rather be shivering and jumping around, than feel like a crumpled piece of paper wilting under the intense heat and humidity of a summer sun. Any day.

In Dante's Inferno, the bottom part of Hell was actually COLD! The icy Ninth Circle. I was quite surprised to read that. If you feel like scaring yourself, read Dante's Inferno, part of his The Divine Comedy. I thought it was scarier than any Stephen King novel I read. It is kind of funny, in a very morbid way. %-0 I only had to put it down several times because parts of it were gruesome in detail.

Snow, snow, snow! Come and get me! Paint the place white! Decorate my coat and boots with fluffy, white flakes! Mesmerize me! But don't make me slip and trip (again)!

******

Snow flakes

I counted till they danced so
Their slippers leaped the town,
And then I took a pencil
To note the rebels down.
And then they grew so jolly
I did resign the prig,
And ten of my once stately toes
Are marshalled for a jig!

--Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)