On the seventh day of Christmas, my true loves gave to me…..seven inches’ snow, six chocolatechip cookies, five hours alone, four people dressed, three frozen fruit treats, two burning snowmen and a queasy feeling in my tummy…
It started snowing shortly after we got up today, and kept snowing all day. Which is why Jason rigged the ‘random’ choosing of the daily advent activity so it would be ‘build a snowman’.
We ventured out for a walk before building Frosty, and had the distinct privilege of watching a car slide backwards as it attempted to go up our neighboring street. The poor guy surrendered his attempt to travel south, and started driving west instead. Looking for a road without a hill.
A guy from ‘our’ neighborhood association (apparently the same guy who spends a month decorating his house for Halloween) turns the area by the tennis courts into an ice rink. There’s a designated area for hockey and then a large oval track of ice around the perimeter of the park. We hung out there for a while so the kids could play on the ice.
In order to garner our children’s social acceptance, we feel sort of obligated to get them on the ice (in skates, rather than today’s snowboots). But, honestly, I don’t like skating all that much (and Jason likes it even less), and the last time I can remember being on skates, was probably 1994 or 1995. Funnily enough, with Jason. We’d gone ice skating with three other friends in Indianapolis. At the end of the evening, as we were driving home in our friend’s Ford Escort, we were pulled over.
For driving too slow.
Our friend had been driving like a grandpa in a Buick because the weather was a little bit treacherous. Treacherous might be overstating it – more like inclement. So imagine our collective surprise when a cop pulled the car over. But when he gave the reason for the stop, Jason and I couldn’t stop laughing. And I still laugh just thinking about it. I think our friend who shall remain nameless was a little embarassed, but we couldn’t contain our laughter.
It was really funny – unlike Princess Bride.
Something I’ve been thinking about in the last week, which has nothing to do with snow…….the demise of the written salutation.
I’ve been a little slow on the uptake, but I’ve just recently noticed that most of my emails or facebook messages are not actually addressed to me. They’re just paragraphs or two of text, and the name of the sender at the bottom. Sometimes not even a name at the bottom. And I’m well (enough) versed in current communication trends to know that this isn’t only happening to me; it’s just how people write.
I’m still stuck in the nineties, though, because it’s hard for me to send an email without putting ‘Hi Sarah’ or whatever, at the top. Etiquette, or habit, I’m not sure. Sometimes I have to force myself to omit it – just so I’m not glaringly un-hip.
What caused the salutation to go away? Economy of words, lack of ‘time’ for more complete correspondence, desire for anonymity, ego, inability to remember people’s names, or fear of misspelling them?