One good thing about this frigid cold weather is it's going to feel positively balmy when it gets up to 20 degrees next week. I did see a teenage girl in the grocery store yesterday with her parents. They were bundled up to the ears and she was in her skin-tight jeans, a scoop-neck short-sleeved t-shirt, knee-high fashion boots and NO COAT. Not even a sweater or hoodie. Bare arms. Bare chest. I'll give her parents credit for ignoring the battles not worth fighting. If she wanted to freeze herself, that was her prerogative, but I did happen to see where they'd parked. It was as far away from the door as possible and still be in the lot. It's the silent victories that satisfy in the long run.
January 21--Peru, Pre-columbian, Tapestry Fragment. Spiders circled overhead in their webs that hung from the trees and cougars prowled in the underbrush. Fear outlined Gregorio's eyes in white and his red lips were stretched tight exposing his teeth. the tension permeated the room and the eternal struggle of man versus nature was plain in every thread of the tapestry that hung in the Olivera's living room. Marta hated when there were guests and she had to tell the story of the weaving to them. Her parents thought it was charming and showed off her intelligence. It might have been when she was small and lisping, but at seventeen she was too old to be shown off like a prize filly and most of their guests had heard the little speech so many times that they could say it along with her.
Guess what? I have to work today--and next Saturday too. Mrs. Boss is off to Grand Cayman for a dive trip with a few others. I'm outta here.
--Barbara
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