. . . a frosty friday

i bet only Frodo at the top of Mount Doom or maybe the crew from Happy Feet could appreciate the temperatures we've had the last couple days. -33 degrees Celsius - before the wind. weather network says it feels like -42 with the wind chill. I'll take their word for it! almost makes me grateful for being bronchial and not having to go out in it - almost. at least this morning the hack is only coming from the diaphragm and not the toes. I'll take any progress I can get.

i heard a phrase the other day that almost made me hurl, not because it was neccesarily nasty, but because it was so graphically specific to what is wrong with me. are you ready? "lung butter" thank you sister Patty. I told my daughter and she started to gag ... but it was just so appropriate to the conversation at the time. any time you can elicit an immediate physical response from two such innocuous words, that's great usage.

on a completely different topic, how many of you out there have inherited china patterns from moms, grandmas etc? I don't know if this means anything to people any longer. we had a fair large family and family celebrations meant dressing up and using the good china - there are SO many memories that can be dredged up just by seeing the pattern. entire mini videos run in my head. maybe it's just me?

I have a small selection of Royal Albert Petit Point serving pieces that survived a crash of the china box at my mom's some 15-20 years ago. it used to be an entire set with 8-12 place settings. so if anyone knows someone who wants to be relieved of the breakables, please let me know. I'd like to rebuild it to a 6 place setting service. the pattern was discontinued in 1997 so I'll have to hunt them up somehow.

back to bed I go, nice comfy feather bed, maybe I can sleep myself better.