Why, Thank You......Thank You Very Much

One negative thing about spinning or knitting....it causes me to think.  Too much.  And not just about what's being spun or knitted.

One of the "golden rules" when we were growing up was always saying "please" and "thank you".  Everyone of my generation was taught this; all my children and grandchildren were taught this.  What the hell happened??

Even those of my generation seem to have forgotten those magic words.  Magic because they went to the heart of those spoken to; magic because they could lift a person's self esteem, lighten their heart, validate their existence as a fellow human being.  They also related appreciation for another's time, money, thoughtfulness.

It irks me to no end that those 2 magic words are becoming less and less of our daily lexicon.  No.  Actually, it pisses me off royally.

"Please" is still pretty much spoken.  But "thank you" seems to be fading into oblivion. 

In our own family, graduation gifts.....no "thank you";  shower gifts....nada; wedding gifts.....not a word.  Even Christmas gifts are passed over with as little comment as possible.  I'm talking handmade gifts, hours and hours of creation;  I'm talking wracking my brain to figure out the perfect gift for someone....something that has meaning to that particular person.  And if it needs to be purchased, money is (almost) no object. 

It's gotten to the point that I really don't want to be part of anyone's celebration.  I will say a silent prayer, a blessing for you and think of you on your special day.  I believe that's enough.  No thanks needed.  Not that any would be forthcoming anyway.

I always thanked the kids for doing the dishes, cleaning their rooms, taking out the trash, etc.  This would irk BH..."you don't need to thank them for doing their chores"  he would say.

Ahhh....but, I would retaliate,  "everyone needs to know their appreciated, whether it's something expected of them...their job, their chore, their responsibility....or just of their own doing".   Everyone needs to be validated.  Everyone needs to know they matter.   In this crazy, impersonal, dangerous world.....everyone should know they matter.

Sorry for the rant; I feel much better now.   Thank you for "listening".....thank you very much.

It Goes Like This......

So, after 2 glorious days of temps in the 40's...above 0!  We are back to reality.  Anyone in the Midwest knows where this is going.

Yep, it started snowing yesterday afternoon....and hasn't stopped.  The winds are gusting 40 mph.  We have 4 ft. drifts in front of the house and I'm sure, in the driveway.

BH says last night that he's getting out at first light this morning to start shoveling. 

Me: "want me to help you shovel?  I can shovel, you know.  2 shovels are better than one; it'll go quick".
BH: "no, no.  I'll be ok; it's not that bad".

This morning.  It goes like this.........

Me: "so, you're waiting until it's light outside, right?"
BH: "yeah".
He looks outside.  "Maybe I'll be lucky and the snow blew right over the mounds on the sides of the driveway".

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I can see the 2+ ft drifts sitting in the driveway. Without his glasses, he can't see worth a damn.  That, plus my knickname for him is "Polyanna".

Now he's dressed, putting on his boots.

Me: "do you have longjohn's on?"
BH: "nah..I don't need them"
Me: "oh for God's sake, you should put them on"
BH: "I'm not going to be out there that long; I'll be coming in off and on"
Me: "you should wear the scarf over your face; it's blowing pretty bad out there".
BH (slightly agitated): "I gotta keep adjusting it and have to stop shoveling; I don't need it".

Well, alrighty then.

He opens the door.  No. He tries to open the door.  The wind has blown drifts of snow inside the storm door.  He has to push with all his might just to get it open.

10 minutes later, he's in the house.

"I'm going to wait till the plow comes down the street; there's no sense in shoveling it all now; the mail won't come till the street's plowed; we don't have to go anywhere today, right?"

"Yep", says I.  "You should put your longjohn's on".

"I'm ok; my legs are warm enough", says he.   Whatever.

Now, I don't know if he's had a mental lapse or it's the "Polyanna" talking, but when the plow comes by, the 2+ feet at the end of the driveway will become 4 feet...of compacted snow.  Yeah.

"You should see it.  There's 2 feet drifts just on the walkway; I shoveled a path down to the end of the driveway", he updates me.

Our driveway is about 50 ft. long from the deck to the road.  There's another 10 feet along side the house where the car is parked.  We do not have a snowblower.  He shovels....with a shovel.  Refuses the idea of a snowblower.  He'll be 78 in July.   I'm glad the life insurance is paid.

"Do you want me to call around for someone to come plow out the driveway?"  I offer, in my most caring tone.

"No. No. It'll be alright.  This is going to be the last of the snowfall", is his reply.  (remember: "Polyanna")

Okey dokey, then.

So, my plan is to bake chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies today.  I'm going to have plenty of time...alone in the house.  And keep the coffee hot and fresh for his intermissions.

The sun is supposed to come out this afternoon.  But the temps till next Wednesday will be in the teens with the occasional single digits below 0 during the night.

So....is it still warm and wonderful in Alaska?