Stylin’
My sister Bec and I talk four or five times a week via FaceTime. She knows I’m awake when I post my blog on Facebook. I know she’s awake when she “likes” my blog on Facebook. Facebook should be proud. Yesterday morning, my iPad alerted me to a FaceTime call from Bec early, around 7 a.m. “I’m just calling to make sure I’m not the loved one to whom you were referring in the blog this morning,” she said. “I don’t want those pants.” She was referring to yesterday’s blog post in which I mentioned I was crocheting a Christmas gift and posted this photo…..

I assured her that the picture didn’t reflect what I am actually crocheting, and she wasn’t the loved one for whom I was crocheting. Still, she started my day off with a laugh.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside
The temperature in Denver finally dropped to more winter-like temperatures. Yesterday it got up to 55 or so, but the day before, it didn’t reach freezing. While I am not a fan of winter or cold weather, I will admit that I’m kind of glad to see it become more like normal. As usual, we will leave for AZ on Christmas Day, and I enjoy knowing I’m going to someplace warm from someplace cold. Lately the temperatures have been about the same in both places. Still, when Bec called yesterday at 7 o’clock, it was still dark, while the sun was coming up here in Denver.

Heartburn
When the temperatures dip, the comfort level of our house dips as well. We always keep the temperature the same, but some days it just feels draftier than others. I guess it’s because our house was constructed in 1972 when builders didn’t really worry too much about insulation. I was chilly all morning, and had to cover myself with a blanket as I crocheted. As lunchtime approached, I began dreaming in Indian food, something I often enjoy when it’s cold outside. So I ordered and had delivered food from a neighborhood Indian restaurant. Bill had his favorite chicken tandoori, and I had lamb vindaloo. I was a showoff and ordered the “hot” instead of “medium.” I ate it, but when Indian food is hot, it is HOT. As for Bill’s tandoori, for reasons I can’t explain, I detest the smoky smell of tandoori. When he was finished, I quickly cleaned up his plate and put the leftover chicken in the refrigerator. Still, the smell lingered. I lit a Christmas candle. Still, the lingering odor of tandoori filled the house. I finally went and got a pedicure. When I finally returned, I could still smell it, but it was much less odiferous. Next time we’ll go to the restaurant!

Breaking Up is Hard to Do
I called my hair salon to make an appointment for a haircut before we leave on Christmas Day. There won’t be much time for such doings when we arrive in AZ because we hit the ground running and my surgery is January 7. Much to my shock and horror, I was told that my hair stylist has moved to Tennessee. I was so sad to receive that news. My hair likely isn’t that hard to cut, but I don’t like to make changes when I have a stylist who knows exactly what I like. She promised me she wouldn’t ever leave! The receptionist said she has family in Tennessee. Family Schmamily!

Ciao.