I just spent a week--or a season--in my pajamas. Hibernating, perhaps. Or changing into an entirely new organism--caterpillar to butterfly--in a cocoon. Maybe it was a cold combined with a series of winter storms, that suddenly just up & fled these Carolina mountains.
No logical explanations. Where is the logic of a week in pajamas? But when one doesn't specifically have to go outside--indeed, can't, for days, because her street hasn't been plowed of its (not quite a foot of) snow--& she does have have a cold & she already got enough groceries to last &...
(Some members of the household, who didn't have colds were more adventurous. Jon & Satori rode a kayak on a steep street in the middle of downtown with some friends. No, I'm not kidding!)
A week in pajamas. It was so delicious. Actually it was a mere 6 days, because Wednesday last I had clothes on & Wednesday this I donned (the same) clothes again. Except Wednesday last I wore my puffy coat & today a hoodie was too warm. Woo hoo. Spring has sprong!
The groundhogs did see their shadows, but here in the southern mountains, that means 6 more winks of winter.
Gotcha. Just kidding. No, I mean it. Aw, you know I was joshing you...etcetera. 6 more winks of winter. Unlike in the northlands (47 years in states that border Canada; I think I know what I'm talking about) where it can snow in October & not melt until May. The first year I was here, it was 70 degrees on the first of January. But we do get real snow & real cold. It's a win win. Nothing boring about the weather here.
So, I got some fun things done during the week of the pajamas, including reading a truly dynamite book by the truly dynamite Martha Beck.
Finding Your Way in a Wild New World: Reclaim Your True Nature to Create the Life You Want. I'm going to get my own copy, because she has so many great exercises in it. I also worked on some contests I'm judging & played a little (grin) poker & did some writing & watched some cool videos & movies & lectures, from Jimmy Durante singing
Inka Dinka Doo to documentaries on Salvador Dali & Picasso to
The Parent Trap starring Hayley Mills to
The Making of Yentl. What a strange feast for my brain. What wonders will come out of that percolating, composting, internal spontaneous combustion engine?
So today, it being in the mid-sixties, degree-wise, I walked downtown for milk. I returned some misprinted checkblanks to the bank (apparently they no longer have the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum ones that I've had forever so I took back the boring ones they'd sent me instead & got the wildlife ones) & took pictures of the springtime.
It was odd to hole up during one season & emerge in another. I don't feel like a bear, though, unless it's a very tiny bear that just broke out of a chrysalis & is wondering where the heck these wings came from.
I know that in some latitudes, winter's going to be winking madly at you for a while yet. Don't hate me because I'm southern. Grin.
Blog alternative:
279. Take to your pajamas for a day (or more) & see what you discover.
