That remains the great quandary, for me, about the current conflicts. I think that whatever our liabilities as a society,and there are plenty of down sides (info-mercials, overindulged eaters at CinnaBun, tax audits and the people who enjoy doing them... you get the idea), we still need to not only protect ourselves from those who would do us harm, but do it with real energetic force. That is why the Iraq war has become such a distressing situation. Whatever WAS the war on Terror, this isn't it; and having helped stoke the fires of the America haters by what we have done there, we've inflicted on them and ourselves, a terrible situation. Not a surprize, really but nothing you want to be happy about.

Adrienne's hair, aflight..
So this morning, imagine my wonderful astonishment when I discovered a new way of forecasting the weather. We had gone for our semi-usual Sunday morning dim-sum with Edwige and Chris - our adopted kids... She, the French beauty, was our au pair ten years ago (Iris calls them our "children by choice), and married Chris, a Yank from upstate New York, and they have two adorable kids, Adrienne (2) and Mateo (6 months). On the way out of Mark's (don't be later than 11am on Sunday, or you 'll have to wait) Chris started to remark that Adriennes hair - very static-y - was flying all over the place, and truly it was. Strands hovering hither and yon, the way those white styrofoam popcorn bits cling to blankets when you open a box from Amazon.com. Her wisps of hair were looking like Vietnamese leeches hanging from trees, bobbing up and down as a body (mine, as I remember it) walked by. Both Chris and Edwige noted at that moment that we will be getting snow.

Icey crusts on the Volvo windshield
Snow? Snow? I asked? Yes, they said. When her hair is like that, snow is imminent. Right, I said, it sounds like something from Green Acres. Arnold Ziffel, the pig, would start snorting a certain way, and Fred, his owner, would divine what was going to happen on the weather front. Gimme a break, I thought. But I remembered how that hair looked as I walked off to the car. We drove home. Parked. Came inside. Twenty minutes later it started to snow.

The beloved MINI in its weather glove
Topper Shut (Storm Central 9), Doug Hill (Storm Center 7), eat your hearts out. All I need to know is when Adriennes hair starts to fly like a mad scientist, grab your boots, salt the sidewalk, and shovel the walk. I know a surprize when I see one. We're just sayin....David
2 comments:
hi guys... thanks for sweet comment... good to know that u have liked my blog... do drop by again sometime...!!!
I hate the bad ones..but EVERYONE loves those 'good'surprizes! Is itnot wonderfully strange how they appear?
Post a Comment