There were heavy snowfall warnings all weekend. Picking Emil up in Wadena on Friday posed no problem, but I parked Little Green behind Shirley’s truck when we got back, so the plow can get into the driveway.
Scott spent Saturday night with us and drove Emil home yesterday afternoon before returning to Golden Grain Farm. He had a little trouble getting the truck down our road, he said.
I didn’t venture out at all. As of this morning it looks quite different out there. Lots of snow and it’s still coming down. I’m glad there’s nowhere I need to go for the next five days and can snuggle into my cocoon with the kitties. I might just stay in my housecoat all day! Nah. The outdoors is already tempting me away, at least temporarily, from the thought of curling up with a book and reading, reading, reading. I have Ursula Le Guin’s Words Are My Matter: Writings about Life and Books 2000-2016. I also brought a pile of old journals along in hopes of getting through some and then assigning them to the burning barrel. It’s been two weeks and they haven’t been touched.
I watched the Oscars with LuckyLou on my lap.
The Oscars were my choice of viewing last night. As usual I sneered at the too-long gowns — the impractical length looks stupid; dresses that are beautiful would look equally so if they were short enough not to be a tripping hazard — and used the mute button on the remote more often than not. I applauded Jodie Foster and Emma Stone’s smart fashion choices. They looked every bit as glamorous as the gals in gowns. More so, to my eye.
Some of the gowns were really ugly, weren’t they? I guess that’s always the case. Different strokes and all that. I watched some of the red carpet footage and laughed out loud at Whoopi Goldberg’s outfit. Why on Earth would you put on such an abomination and wear it in public? LOLOLOL. And the skirt on Rita Moreno’s dress … ay yi yi! There is such a thing as a hoop skirt whose hoop is too big. Puffy skirts may be in vogue lately, but I’m not a fan.
I do like nice clothes. Just not ridiculous ones.
For me, the point of sitting in front of the TV for so long is to see clips of movies. There are always plenty I’ve never heard of and probably never will again, and there are some my attenna will now be alert to: Victoria and Abdul, for one. The Shape of Water, because I will watch Sally Hawkins in anything. She came to my attention in Happy-Go-Lucky back in 2008, and recently starred as Nova Scotia artist Maude Lewis in Maudie.
Beth: I think my nephew and his wife got the name Everley from a baby book. But I await a text in answer to your question… And here it is: I was right (Just say it: “Kate is always right.” Pfft), they saw it in a book of baby names. They added the E before the Y with a thought to making the name look more feminine. They also made the connection to the Everly Brothers. And somewhere it was said that Beverly was the old name, Everly is the new.
Marms: I go for wash ‘n’ wear hair nowadays. I’ve no interest in “doing” it: pinning or waving or putting “product” in it, though the latter seems necessary if I don’t want to look like Moe from “The Three Stooges” and kinda still do anyway, in spite of the valiant efforts of my hairdresser, whose arms are probably still aching from all the thinning and texturizing she has to do do with my mop.
Here, I’ll go soak my head and show you how it looks when it’s not bent out of shape by my pillow and is still wet:
Which isn’t so bad right now, but when it’s dry the hair will lay down hard in some places and stick straight out in others. I’ve got at least two cowlicks too. It’s got a mind of its own, this head! Product or no product. Of course it’s not fair to blame any of this fearfulness on my hair. Look at that face! Ah ha ha ha … hilarity and nightmares, take your pick.
It takes a few days to get used to a new cut and then a couple weeks till it gets to just the way I like it. There oughtta be a liquid you can spray on your hair when it grows into the perfect “do,” as it usually does, so that it stops growing and stays exactly as it is till you’re ready for a change, instead of continuing to lengthen till you’re reduced to holding it back with bobby pins.