My home is filled with ginger bread, caramel covered pop corn, chocolate cake, chocolate covered toffee, fudge, cookies, and one piece of sticky toffee pudding. I find I have this inner worry that these divine sweets will go bad and that I must eat them all before that happens.
In contrast to these thoughts however, I have been exercising in hopes to balance out my need to save the sweets.
For example, yesterday I walked to the bank, which my pedometer says is 2,570 steps from my home.
On my way, I walked over large mountains of snow. I walked past a man in yellow rubber boots who was pushing some strange, snow blowing, contraption. The machine he was using had a protective plastic frame that looked like a *phone booth. The man in the phone booth was on top of a lawnmower looking machine that tossed snow into the air, like confetti on New Years day. Be aware those machines are nothing you want to be down wind from.
When I got down town I walked in a canyon. A canyon that had been carved from show shovels, creating mountains of snow. I watched a man climb one of those mountains, to put letter in a UPS box. I walked down the sidewalk canyon in our small city past fifteen bars, a rent a center, and a small dinner with $2.95 eggs and potatoes, before reaching the bank. Tucson came into my mind, then, the Wizard of Oz line: Dorthy your not in Kansas anymore. The East is so different than the dessert. I do like the change in seasons. I enjoy the challenge of shoveling snow and the quiet contentment to sit inside on snow covered days like this one and write on the computer.
Thanks to my walk I am going to make a pot of coffee and sit back with a piece of ginger bread and enjoy today's adventure in saving the Christmas sweets.
*a phone booth is a small room with three glass walls. Inside those walls is a phone. You could, at one time, drop a quarter, (yes only a quarter), into the phone and call someone you loved.
No comments:
Post a Comment