Beware the Eyes of March

The first day of spring packed a wallop here in Texas. We had snow. A lot of it in some places. Now mind you, compared to many other places in our wonderful country, our winter was baby sized. What's a few inches of snow when other parts of the northeast got a few feet of the fluffy white stuff. In my opinion, we had just enough to entertain the kids, and many adults for that matter. But, it will be nice to store the mittens and scarves away and bring out the sandals and tee shirts. Yeah baby. I can feel the spring in my step already.

Quite frankly, spring is one of those seasons that just kind of happens. It comes in kind of quietly, as though it doesn't want to cause a fuss. The birds seem to sing a little louder in the morning. The sunrise seems to glow with the promise of a warmer gentler day. And then all of a sudden you notice that the people around you seem to have shed about 20 pounds of outer layers. I didn't think it was humanly possible for my husband to wear so many shirts at once and still be able to tuck them in his jeans but every winter he accomplishes this feat.


And of course, as we all know, it is the time when people seem to get magically tanned before your very eyes. Bronzed skin replaces the pasty white winter look. Golden brown hairless legs are proudly displayed everywhere I go. It's amazing really. The sun has been out for maybe a few days, yet the folks around town look like they have been vacationing in the Bahamas for weeks. This happens every year. Everyone's eyes are riveted to all of the tanned legs walking around. How do they do it? I noticed this a few years ago so, being blessed with having my own fashionista in the family, I called her so that I might find out how this is accomplished. It seems that scientists, bless their hearts, have developed ways to instantly tan you so that at the very first moment of crop pant season, you are ready to go. And it all comes, easy as pie, in a bottle or a tube.


I decided that it would be a good idea to try this stuff out, since I didn't want to be the only one out walking around looking so pale and sickly. Fitting in with the crowd is so important you know. So, off I go, to the neighborhood drug store to pick up a bottle of this wonderful potion. Now, like many of the "must have" items on the store shelves, this stuff is not cheap. Always trying to be the good steward, I pick up one that promises me a "glowing natural tan in just a few hours", for quite a bit less than the name brand that the fashionista had suggested. She may know products and fashions, but I know how to save a buck.


After a good shave, remember, it's been winter time so the extra hair on the legs has been hidden by sweat pants, I squirt some of the gel in my hands and proceed to rub it on my legs. It is white, practically the same color as my legs, and it appears to disappear quickly and efficiently. It doesn't even really smell bad. I smile to myself just thinking about how awesome it is going to be in the morning when I put on my crop pants and sandals and no longer blind my neighbor when I walk out to get the mail.


The next morning as I made the coffee, I couldn't help but notice that my palms kind of had a glow in the dark look to them. They had a tinge of orange, like I had been eating Cheetos, and not washed my hands properly. I washed them and dried them again, and then again, and to my utter surprise this dull orangy hue didn't go away. I kept turning them over and over staring in amazement having absolutely no idea why this was happening. Was I sick or something? Should I call the doctor and make an appointment. Was my liver shutting down??????? And then, like a bolt of lightning it hit me. If my hands look like this, what in the world are my LEGS gonna look like.


I dashed for the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror intently staring at my orange legs. Where was the golden bronze tan that everybody else had. The picture on the front of the bottle displayed the most wonderfully evenly tanned person I had ever seen. I wanted to look like HER for heavens sake. Instead, I looked like a kindergartner had attempted to paint me and didn't understand the concept of staying in the lines. I looked like I had been haphazardly dipped in orange gelatin. My legs resembled a heavier version of my orange tabby cat. What was I going to do. The temperate was supposed to be warm and sunny. People were expecting me to be ready for spring. I had had my toes painted with a flower already.


There was no way around the fact that I was going to remain in this condition for a couple of weeks. I just couldn't let anyone see me like this. What would my friends think? Would they pity me for this ghastly mistake or would they think to themselves that I must be really really ill and be polite and not say anything. I was secretly praying that a freak snowstorm would come so that everyone would be back to wearing parkas and mukluks. But no. As luck would have it the weather was beautiful. Everywhere I went, in my blue jeans, people were showing off their tans and crop pants. I was an outcast among my own kind. I had no style, no glam. All I had was orange legs.


This year will be different. I heard about a place where they actually spray the tan right on you. Yeah. It's true. My girlfriend had it done. She came out of the stall, shiny bronze without so much of a stripe on her. Her legs had that even glow of being out in the sun continuously for weeks. I knew instantly that this was for me. No more magic potion from a bottle. I was going to go get the perfect tan. I called her up and she graciously explained the process to me. I was doing great until she reached the part where you are naked in the stall as the person sprays the tan on you. I thought about this scenario and thought about it. Was I willing to go to these lengths for a tan? Naked in a room with a person I didn't know? Naked in a room? Naked? At this stage in my life, nobody sees me naked on purpose. I just couldn't do it. I have no nerve. I have no chutzpah. Thank goodness I have another coupon for the "Tan in a Bottle".

Slip Slidin' Away

I have recently discovered that the rules of "I just have to have that" do not just apply to those precious little knee huggers at Christmastime. Oh no. There seem to be plenty of folks over the age of "You should know better than to believe that crud" living around me. Some of them even live at my house. Imagine that.

I would venture to say with the utmost of certainty, that most of us seek to get a good nights sleep. I know I do. My husband is a tosser and turner. You know the kind. By the end of the day his back is sore and something about laying still for several hours doesn't work well. It takes him about a minute to fall into this deep deep sleep then he spends the next several hours tossing and turning. He just never seems to get comfortable. Back and forth and back and forth. Grab the pillow, fluff the pillow. Sheet tucked in and sheet tucked out. Even the dogs leave the room to go and find a quiet place to get some rest. It's amazing that I look as good as I do in the morning !!!

On a recent trip to the local membership store, he spotted a huge display of the "World's Best Pillows". "Maybe a new pillow would help" he said as he picked one up. These things weighed about 5 pounds and were so thick you could leave a hand print in them that took several minutes to go away. "Wow" I said. "Once you lay your head down on that thing you will never move again". Not a bad idea I thought to myself. Maybe this will eliminate the night spasms and we will both look great in the morning. Now, these things weren't cheap so we decided to buy just one and we would both test it out and see what we thought. I must admit that first night I was a bit green with pillow envy and he lay ever so quietly breathing in and breathing out with a slight smile on his face. Blissful rest. I just gotta have one of those pillows too.

Then I saw it. Sitting in my own living room watching a Saturday afternoon rerun. The thing that promised me a good nights sleep. A mattress pad made out of the very same miracle material that my husbands pillow was made out of. Oh my gosh! I was so excited I almost forgot to breathe. And the commercial for it was so informative and believable. A simple mattress pad that would guarantee the best nights sleep humanly possible. Morning stiffness and back aches would be a thing of the past. You are cradled to sleep and your body is tenderly wrapped in the firmness of the most incredible mattress pad a person could ever ask for. Brilliant, just brilliant. Who ever discovered this patent had my vote for person of the year. According to the commercial, and we all know that there is only truth in commercials, you could even jump up and down on your side of the bed, in your skimpy negligee. while your mate has a glass of wine balanced precariously by his toes. Wow. I was sold. We were getting one of those. And we did.

Now, I am not one to complain, but there is something amiss with my new mattress pad. Oh it is firm enough, just like the advertisement said. You can press on it, and your hand print will remain for several minutes. But it is having a smidgen of a problem staying "in place" on our pillow top mattress. Remember those???? Oh don't date me now, but yes, we still have a pillow top mattress. It's only about 1/8 of an inch thick but that is just enough to throw the new mattress pad off kilter. I first noticed that I would wake up in the morning gripping the side of the bed with the most peculiar feeling that I was falling off of a cliff. It has come to my attention that the mattress pad shifts to the right every night causing a couple of inches to hang off my side of the bed. I found this out one morning as I sat down and reached into my closet for my shoes. I slid off the bed and into the closet in a split second. This was NOT mentioned in the commercial. I was devastated. Can you imagine my turmoil? What was I to do? Get rid of it?

I don't want to toot my own horn or make you think that I am ingenious. Nor do I want you to get the impression I spend my days watching television. But it was indeed another commercial that saved the day. Oh you've seen it. The stuff that can fix just about anything you break. You can hang by a hard hat suspended from a ceiling joist with it? I figured I could take a little bit of that liquid gold and glue the two mattresses together. The new mattress pad would stay in place and I would no longer feel as though I was falling. Great huh? Sometimes I amaze myself with how smart I am. It's almost scary to realize that all that intelligence is securely wrapped up inside my little ole head. Now I just need to go and watch one more commercial. You know, the one that tells you what product to use to get the dang sheets unstuck.

Getting Jiggly with my Bad Self

This past year I incorporated working out with my morning routine. Let's be very clear here though. My morning routine would not likely have been considered healthy by most. After several cups of coffee, you know, the strong, put hair on your chest stuff, my exercise consisted of opening the back door to let my dogs out. If I was really feeling energetic, I might even stroll out to the back porch and gently toss the ball around for my dog. So when I got this wild idea that a little exercise might do me some good, it was a real ground shaker in my house. It's not like they doubted that I would do it, but hey, they know me. Sitting quietly is more my speed.

I must admit, it took quite a bit of time to create poetry in motion but I do believe that I have a handle on it now. My Wii Mii and I can change it up with the best of them. Kick boxing? Yeah, we do it. Yoga? Oh my. Look at that perfect posture. Step dancing? Ha! We could be on "So you think you can Dance". We are good I tell ya. Dang good. Once that music starts playing wii are one with it. That balance board has nothing on us. Floating like a butterfly. Yep that's us. I was feeling so confident that I decided to add a little spice to the workout. You know. Keep it fresh. Keep it alive. I was an old hand at this now. There was nothing I couldn't do.

Until I decided to try the Hula Hoops. Who's idea was it to put that in the program. This was supposed to be a fun way to get in shape. What's a little sweat between friends right? This should have been a easy thing for my Wii Mii and I. But NOOOOOO !!!! I am saddened and ashamed to report that we are sorely missing the mark in this little exercise of wit. And it is all my shii mii's fault. She has no rhythm.

Once the music starts you twirl your hips while keeping the Hula Hoop spinning. Oh it sounds easy enough doesn't it. Once you get them babies twirling some other Mii in the corner of the screen ( and I think I know who it is) tosses another hoop to you. Now you must catch it while still twirling the other hoop. Not bad? Try another.......and another. The tossers never miss a beat while I frantically try and remember which way to twirl so I don't lose any points. I AM all about winning you know. This is usually about the time that I am making some incredible growling type sounds so both dogs come in the room to see what is happening and start to bark at me, thinking that I must be growling at the bad guy. Next in comes my husband. He just stands there staring. What can he say after all. I am frantically twirling invisible hoops and cursing under my breath, regarding the DNA that my father must have passed me that is causing me to have to exercise in the first place. I have sweat running down my cheeks and my Wii Mii looks fresh as a daisy. Is there no justice? This just doesn't seem fair.

We all know that I am all about the fair so after I caught my breath from the invigorating workout I grabbed another cup of coffee, sat down at the table, and thought about how I might even things up a bit. Shii doesn't sweat. Shii never even looks ruffled after a 30 minute workout. Shii eats what shii wants when shii wants and only changes weight when I do. Huh. Something is just not right here. I leer at her over the lip of my coffee cup. Thinking, thinking. I've got it!!!! I'll show her a thing or two. I will beat her at her own game.

I must have had a really scary look on my face because my husband walked by and stopped and just kind of looked at me. And then he quietly walked away shaking his head wondering what in the world I could be up to. I rose from the table and walked back to the remote. I knew what I had to do. It just was not working having her look better than me. So I took off her eye makeup. That showed her a thing or two.