Sugar Daddy, the caramel lollipop in the colorful wrapper
WHERE’S MY SUGAR DADDY? No. Scratch that! WHERE’S MY SHOVEL DADDY? I just finished shoveling an inch or two of snow off our steep driveway for the second time in two days. Should I be complaining? Probably not. I live in the upper Midwest. You’d think I’d be used to this stuff. While I feel great sympathy for those in the southeast and the east coast, this is what we deal with all winter long. I’m tired of it. I want a Shovel Daddy, someone who will come to my rescue after it snows with a two stage snow blower, every time I need to go out and my hubs is at work. Where are all the teenagers eager to earn a buck or two for an hour’s work? I can pay more than McDonald’s and I promise I won’t ask for fries with that. I don’t mind the actual shoveling. It’s the seemingly mandatory backache that comes with it that makes me want to get into a snowball fight with a Yeti. I’d vent my anger and pain and put that sucker down faster than Frosty would melt in a microwave. Yeah, I’m over it. Winter can go on its merry way now. I’d at least like to be able to find a few of my outdoor Christmas ornaments that got buried under the white stuff at the start of the new year. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. I’m not feeling it. “Sweet Like Candy?” My socks lie! (I’ll feel better in the morning.)
Dec 22 – After driving through unplowed streets to church this morning, I wasn’t feeling very loving. I knocked off the snow that clung to my striped socks with gold snowflakes and took my seat. When the Advent candle was lit in the service, this carol ran through my mind: “Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, love divine; Love was born at Christmas, Stars and angels gave the sign.” This popular Christmas song was originally a poem written by English poet Christina Rosetti in 1885. She used the word “love” eleven times in three verses. How perfect for the fourth Sunday of Advent! Today, we lit the love candle, completing the circle of the four. The only one left is the Christ candle, appropriately situated in the center of hope, peace, joy, and love. As Rosetti reminds us in her poem, love arrived in the form of the baby Jesus. The magi followed a sign, but we no longer have to look for one because our sign is Jesus, and Jesus is Love Alive. This is the truth about Christmas. Like the Advent wreath, Christ stands at the center, waiting for us to receive His love on Christmas Eve.
Posted in Sockery
Tagged Advent, Christmas, Christmas and holiday season, Christmas Apparel, Christmas Socks, Cold, Fourth Sunday, Gold, Holiday, Holidays, Love, Snow, Snowflake, Snowflakes, Sock, socks, Wreath
My socks are a colorful pair today. They have green dots of sparkly thread and big snowflaky things on them that made me think about sled riding today. I live in a semi-flat state, but I grew up in sled riding country. When we first moved here, I asked about the large mound of earth that seemed to hump up in the middle of a park. I was told it was a sled riding hill. It would have been rude to laugh. Growing up, I lived at the top of the street. The street would be closed off and a multitude of neighborhood kids would trudge to the top and take off on our Flexible Flyers down the unplowed street, laughing, smiling, with wind-red cheeks and runny noses. Once at the bottom, we’d trudge to the top again and like shampoo, we’d lather, rinse, repeat until we were called in for hot chocolate. That was sled riding. We made memories. Even though I laugh at the sled riding bump where we live now, those families and kiddies are making memories that will stay with them, much like the way I remember the hills of home.
(If these look familiar, they’re the same pair that are in my icon, but this is the first time I have worn them this year. However, this is not the first time I’ve taken a picture of them. What can I say? I have odd hobbies.)
Posted in Sockery
Tagged Christmas, Christmas and holiday season, Christmas Apparel, Christmas Socks, Cold, Recreation, Sled, Sledding, Snow, Snowflakes, Sock, socks, Winter sport
Dec 16 – Ho ho ho. Not feeling very jolly today. My plans to go Christmas shopping have fallen through, thanks to the snow. I put on penguin socks, thinking that they were ideal for a jaunt in this weather. Unfortunately, it’s not to be. They’ll have to be happy with going out when it’s time to shovel our driveway. Sometimes, I think it would be nice to be a penguin. They don’t mind the cold and are well-insulated against it. And while I’ve got more insulation than I want, the cold weather just leaves me cold. Throughout my elementary and secondary school days, I walked to school. Back then, miniskirts ruled, even in the dead of winter. Fortunately, along with the mini came the maxi. One of the best presents I ever received was a navy blue maxi coat. It got tangled up in my legs when I walked, but gosh darn, it kept my thighs warm. So, I’ve had enough of the cold. The penguin socks are going to have to be happy keeping my feet warm indoors today. As for shopping, I’m good, as long as I have a credit card and the internet. Ho ho ho.
Dec 10 – I’ve made a small game out of choosing Christmas socks. I’ll put my arm into the big decorative tin can where I keep them, sort around and pull out my pair of the day. I never know what to expect. Today, it was lively snowmen. At one time, this big tin was filled with three types of popcorn, instead of socks. I have a love/hate relationship with popcorn. It gives me migraines, but I eat it anyway. What’s that saying about insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results? I expect the migraine after I eat popcorn, but at Christmas, the headaches come beforehand. We’re let down because a snow storm ruined the live Nativity scene at the church and caused Uncle Fred’s plane to be delayed. And worst of all, the grocery store was out of roasts for Christmas dinner! But didn’t the sight of Grandpa cutting into that turducken make for a good memory? We can dial back our expectations. By going with the flow, we can better appreciate the next pair of socks that comes out of the bucket.