X-treme Snow-shoeing!

check it out!

morning ritual - parental advisory due to food porn

My illicit habit started about 2 months ago. I found that I do much better during the day if I begin by developing a morning routine after my morning routines. Once I leave the apartment for the day, I check to make sure that I have brought all my trinkets; the wallet, the cellphone, keys, and coffee mug, before going to work. I stop at a place for a bagel, cream cheese (2tbls), and a re-fill for my coffee mug. It all comes to about two dollars, pretty cheap. I place my whole bagel in the hand-slicer, cut it in half, drop it into the toaster, and wait. While my "everything" bagel is toasting I fill my mug with dark roast coffee and a dash of half-n-half. A napkin and plastic knife go on a paper plate, and I wait about 3 minutes for the toaster to finish. The bagel pops up, and I gingerly handle the hot golden brown goodness, laying it on the paper plate and find a spot to sit. Using the plastic knife, I scrape about a third of the cream cheese and spread it over one slice and dip into the little plastic tub again at least twice for all that white creaminess, leaving a trace in the bottom and sides. I re-fold the two halves of the bagel together and then cut the entire circle in half, peeling the right half from the left, and take my first warm bite as some cream cheese gushes out a bit onto my lips. Then a sip of coffee, of course, and a perfunctory napkin dab for any crumbs/cream cheese from the corners of my mouth. I'll check my email or read the news headlines on my cell phone while the sipping and biting go on for about 10 minutes. The best part is the finish, the grande finale. Like panning for gold, I softly shake the remnants of poppy seeds, garlic, sesame seeds, etc. to one of the scalloped troughs on the paper plate until it forms a tastey little hill. Using my plastic knife, I then scrape the remains from the sides and bottom of the cream cheese into ball on the tip of the knife, and then, here it comes, using it like a lint brush, I dab the cream cheese from my knife onto that pile of savory flavors, cleanly picking up all the remnants, quickly placing it into my mouth, and wrapping my lips around the tip for a salty little party on my tongue. One more sip of coffee, and I'm ready for work. (For some reason I am feeling strangely aroused ... and satisfied!)

The Blizzard of 2010

I was excited as it was still snowing the morning of February 6, 2010. It was 9AM on a Saturday, and the day was mine. I thought I had prepared myself well: special wool socks and sturdy hiking boots, along with my down jacket made for arctic temperatures and my leather gloves good for gripping my camera. I didn't realize how deep the snow was until I got into the park. The main roads had been plowed, at least once, so they were walkable. In the park, I found that I had to stop every 5 minutes to catch my breath, trudging through the 2+ feet of snow. Thankfully, there were others out, and their dogs seemed particularly happy to see another playmate in the snow. I was glad to stop for a playful little pat and rub on the head and sides of their bodies. I don't have a dog of my own and prefer not to keep one, but I like dogs, having had a few in my childhood. I finally made it to the stream. Yes, it was beautiful, but my body was aching enough to make the experience less than serene. I was thinking of how I wanted to just get the shots and then get out. It was a long hike home and I was already tired. I was still stopping every 5 minutes to catch my breath. Once I made it back to Braddock Avenue, I stopped in the corner store to buy a can of diet pop. It tasted pretty good, considering I don't buy pop very often. Then I ambled down the shoveled sidewalk a few doors to the laundromat. It was empty, but a warm place to rest a bit and to look over some of the shots. By this time the sun was shining and I regretted not waiting a few hours as the sky became a brilliant cobalt blue. I made my way trudging in the middle of the street to my building. My neighbor was standing at the doorway in her bedroom slippers and asked if I was out all day. "Why yes, what time is it?" I was listening for the local church bell which rang the hour on weekends, but didn't hear the number of chimes. "It's about 3," she said. Three? I had been out for about six hours! No wonder I was exhausted. I also neglected to bring my cell phone, which was a very stupid mistake, and I silently vowed to invest in a pair of snow shoes for next year.