A dozen scrambled thoughts are going on inside my head and only a 1,000 written words to share them here. I'll start by recounting something that defies explanation unless you use the word 'crazy' a few times. It involves two nearly naked guys who made the news by rolling in the snow last week when it was so cold you could throw a glass of water in the air and the water would freeze before gravity took over. I don’t care how quickly those guy could get in a hot tub after rolling in the snow, wouldn’t you think the shock to your body could kill you? Apparently not. No PSA warning came on TV after showing the video telling people not trying this at home.
Anyway, on to the next topic. I’m sitting in the same
cafeteria, in same booth I usually sit in when I want to get out of the house.
Valentine’s Day is coming and I’m doing some reminiscing trying to find a topic to write
about…some grand gesture that included candlelight, Champagne, roses and
playing kissy-face during dinner and dancing. But the problem is all my
memories of grand, romantic gestures come with guys other than my husband. How
romantic would those stories be when the relationships ended without a happily
ever after? By the time Don came into my life I was over wanting those
Hallmark evenings in my life. By that time, however, I was collecting greeting
cards and Don---a true Disciple of the School of Collectables---gave me the
kind Valentine’s Day cards that come in boxes and he’d sign his name on Post-It
notes so he wouldn’t destroy their future value. Made me laugh back then and I
still crack a smile when I think of those tiny Post-It notes signed, Love Don.
We did have one memorable meal on Valentine’s Day---or was
it on Christmas or New Year’s Day? It was winter, let’s leave it at that. We
had a picnic on an ice shelf along Lake Michigan which my older self is
berating my younger self for doing. Climbing those icebergs and shelfs is dangerous but
all we saw was a pretty icescape, a field of diamonds glistening in the sun. We
sat down in our heavy winter gear to eat our chili and drink our hot chocolate,
but we didn’t understand there are air holes in those ice shelfs that often
have a thin covering of ice over them. If one of us had broken threw an air
hole or fallen in between the floating blocks of ice, we would have been sucked
under the icy cold water in a hurry. Those air holes are actually ‘ice volcanos’
that can shoot water high in the air when the lake is surly.
Another change of topics: My Gathering Girls group got together this
week for brunch and we ate at a place that scores low on my list restaurants,
but when I sent out the e-mail reminders I choose the place to meet because
while it might not be a place I like several of my gal pals love it. It’s been
around since we were all young and I suspect it holds special memories for them
like the Guy Land Cafeteria does for me. Their food is good if you like homemade
soups and pies and fried chicken but the “Dutch Boy” is a restaurant my husband
and I avoided like a norovirus.
Why did we avoid the place? Because the owner wore his religion on his
sleeve and he reminded Don of the members of a church who hassled the owners of
a movie theater where he grew up. Imagine going to see The Lone Ranger and Gene
Audrey at the Saturday matinees and being told they were “evil”
and the theater was doing “the devil’s work.” Imagine knowing the owners kept it open long
after it was turning a profit just to give the town’s teenagers something to do
on the weekends instead of drag racing on rural roads or driving
into the city. Imagine all that and you might understand why my husband
absolutely refused to support places like the Dutch Boy Restaurant with its judgmental
religious tracts all over the place. Over the decades most of the religious tracts have disappeared but
Don never let go of his dislike for the place. I go there occasionally, now,
with various groups I lunch with but it feels like I’m cheating on my husband.
Anyway all of my gal pals were happy to be out and about,
having survived the Polar Vortex Blizzard of 2019 although one in the group lost
her lady parts during the storm and can’t drive yet until her surgeon clears
her. Another was in New Orleans with a group from the senior hall for most of
the storm. Other than major headaches at the airport thanks to the government
shutdown going and the weather coming back, she had a great time. The rest of
us mostly made it through 'storm week' by building little nests in our living rooms to try
to stay warm. Our nests were stocked with La-Z-Boy
chairs, TV remotes and guides, books, handcraft projects, magnifying glasses, paper and pens,
scissors, tissues boxes, telephones and lap blankets. Ya, I’m describing the
kind of nests I'd seen and made fun of when we’d visit elderly relatives in the past. I’m
there now and “old people nests” aren’t so funny anymore. ©
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| These two ice volcano photos are by Lisa A Lehman |
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| This photo was taken at Grand Haven MI's shoreline, the one at the top was taken at Highland Park IL's shoreline. The Big Lake creates some strange and beautiful sculptures including ice caves. Exploring the caves like the one in the video below is a popular winter sport in our Upper Peninsula. |
