What I write about varies. Unlike other blogs which are consistently about food or books or chaps sporting big beards, mine is a spectrum erudite entries, full of wisdom, to drivel and rubbish.  What determines the gravity or levity of these scribblings depends on what pops into my pumpkin.  I’m not picky; like a democratic drawbridge I go down for everything. I wonder if this is what improv theatre is like, the way they look anyway.  The actor is given a topic and is told to run with it.  If so, I don’t envy them. I go over each sentence several times for prosody, content, and speling errors until they are right.

My friends and relations back in the Midwest are howling today resembling an orchestra of scorched cats about the weather; apparently they are getting dumped upon by snow and slush and gray skies which invariably makes them cross. What surprises me is the intensity of the vociferous laments which convey shock as if they have never seen such things before.  Perhaps it is a matter of age. Just about everyone I know these days is well over forty (and well over four feet). As Midwesterners age, cold weather becomes less tolerable.* Last week it got down 4C here in Phoenix, which felt quite gelid. As expected at this time of year, this didn’t arouse any empathy from family who were shoveling their walks – again.

February is a a dreary month in general and one tries to get out of it somehow by going to more clement climes. Thanks  to covid19, we are going nowhere but staying home. I might try to coax Someone to go on a long weekend somewhere, provided we can do this safely. Maybe to the southeast of Arizona where the wineries are.  I’ve never been to them. This is probably a bad idea for a lot of reasons so it is ‘stay put and endure February’ as we all tend to do.

Does anyone have any plans for February?
Anyone have snow?

 

*And they complain about it more.