I just ate a pint of Hagen Dazs Egg Nog Ice Cream. OK, I left a couple bites for my oldest daughter to try, which required great restraint. That should count for something.
Now I’m freezing. I was cold to begin with, so eating all that ice cream didn’t help. Brrrr.
Before that I got my haircut (my stylist, Amanda drives a modified Mustang GT, so mostly we talk cars) and a manicure. It’s part of my “ritual preparations” for high holidays—a word that you probably know is derived from the older “holy day”.
Anyway, I think manicures are one of the great pleasures of life, especially soaking cold hands in warm paraffin. They say pedicures are even better, so maybe one day I’ll try one. Right now, though, I think it would feel kind of funny to have some one working on my feet.
A new woman, Zoe, did my nails today. Apparently the last manicurist is now working construction. Interesting change, I thought. Anyway, Zoe asked whether I wanted my nails buffed or polished.
I told I have no clue how I want my nails, so she went ahead and polished them. For future reference, anybody have any opinions on this?
Well, enough of that. Here is the poem for the day. Might this be true of blogs as well?
The First Book by Rita Dove
Go ahead. It won’t bite.
Well…maybe a little.
More a nip, like. A tingle.
It’s pleasurable, really.
You see, it keeps on opening.
You may fall in.
Sure, it’s hard to get started;
remember learning to use
knife and fork? Dig in:
you’ll never reach bottom.
It’s not like it’s the end of the world—
just the world as you think
you know it.