My Ass
Lately, when I feel like going to the grocery store, or 711, or just out for a walk, I'll likely wear a pair of hiking boots with grey, wool work socks, or runners with low cut socks. Comfort and function are my goals for everyday wear.
But not yesterday.
Yesterday it snowed 2 inches in an hour. Big, white flakes the size of silver dollars. Random, bastard winds gusting all over the place. This is when I decide I want to cook some burgers and it's time to go get groceries.
I put on my 'Loud' Macleod, heavy wool kilt, my Aran sweater, and a rain jacket. I wore hiking boots for traction, (falling on your ass in snow whilst kilted is more awake than I like to be!) and high wool kilt socks.
Half way there and I realise it was snowing on my ass. I don't mean that as slang; the wind was lifting my pleats and it was snowing on my ass! I've worn a kilt long enough to be ambivalent about randomly flashing in the wind. (Besides, in this weather, there wasn't a whole lot to see!)
I got there, bought some hamburger and some fresh buns that were warmer than mine, and headed back into the weather. Just outside the door a guy in a tee shirt was waiting for his ride.
We looked at each other and said simultaneously, "Global warming my ass!" and cracked up.
Then I pulled on my hood, put my head down and showed everyone on the way home how cool my ass truly is!
As I'm cooking the burgers, I realise something that might be viewed as trivial by some and drop the jaws of others. I thought I'd like some mashed potatoes with my burger and thus the realisation.
I have never cooked a potato.
Never.
There's a lot of things I haven't done in my life. Some I intend to get to; others I'm thankful for missing. But cooking a potato seems like something just about everyone in North America will have probably done at some point in their lives.
Although, (I'm told), it is nicely shaped and symmetrical, I keep noticing how odd my ass is!
And I'll leave you with my participle dangling in the snowy wind!
But not yesterday.
Yesterday it snowed 2 inches in an hour. Big, white flakes the size of silver dollars. Random, bastard winds gusting all over the place. This is when I decide I want to cook some burgers and it's time to go get groceries.
I put on my 'Loud' Macleod, heavy wool kilt, my Aran sweater, and a rain jacket. I wore hiking boots for traction, (falling on your ass in snow whilst kilted is more awake than I like to be!) and high wool kilt socks.
Half way there and I realise it was snowing on my ass. I don't mean that as slang; the wind was lifting my pleats and it was snowing on my ass! I've worn a kilt long enough to be ambivalent about randomly flashing in the wind. (Besides, in this weather, there wasn't a whole lot to see!)
I got there, bought some hamburger and some fresh buns that were warmer than mine, and headed back into the weather. Just outside the door a guy in a tee shirt was waiting for his ride.
We looked at each other and said simultaneously, "Global warming my ass!" and cracked up.
Then I pulled on my hood, put my head down and showed everyone on the way home how cool my ass truly is!
As I'm cooking the burgers, I realise something that might be viewed as trivial by some and drop the jaws of others. I thought I'd like some mashed potatoes with my burger and thus the realisation.
I have never cooked a potato.
Never.
There's a lot of things I haven't done in my life. Some I intend to get to; others I'm thankful for missing. But cooking a potato seems like something just about everyone in North America will have probably done at some point in their lives.
Although, (I'm told), it is nicely shaped and symmetrical, I keep noticing how odd my ass is!
And I'll leave you with my participle dangling in the snowy wind!