"I always think that’s cool; when you drive up this hill and break through the fog into the sun. It’s like you’re flying above the clouds."
Ooooh, juicy words. I love to hear poetry used in everyday language. It is like the brown sugar in the oatmeal making everything taste better.
In this case, the Starbucks customer was commenting on the extremely strange weather we have been having; apparently the lowest pressure front recorded in history here in Portland. We've been surprisingly rain-free, but our sunny days take shape between layers of fog. And.... it's freezing. I find myself humming along with , Baby It's Cold Outside, and really meaning it. Any precipitation would be snow at this point. I wish for it, but have discovered it is useless to believe I can control the weather.
This was actually something I learned at a young age. I had a valid reason for being convinced I was one of a few people with some authority when it came to weather. I didn't much like growing up with the last name, Sprinkle; I am sure you can imagine all that was done with that by way of elementary school teasing. The only thing that made listening to "a sprinkle a day, helps keep odor away," in any way worthwhile was the idea that I alone could wish for (and get) snow or rain or sun.
But, growing up in California I was mostly wise enough not to test my powers with the snow thing... the sun and rain, however, were clearly at my command. Still, after years of sunny Christmas holidays, by the second or third grade I felt ready to call on my authority to produce a sledding hill on our street. I guess I must not have realized that even with snow, our flat street would not have been conducive to good sledding. It was a moot point. Of course it didn't snow; and I began my downward spiral of realizing there was not, in fact, any good reason why my last name, at best was a type of cupcake topping, and at worst rhymed with tinkle.
There isn't much teasing you can do with the last name, Wilsted though; and for the most part, I am entirely grateful about that. Hopefully my daughter will have one less thing to have to defend. But every now and then, such as when a catchy name might help me sell a book, a little part of me misses that juicy last name.
And in fact, I did keep Sprinkle as a middle name; Because, let's be honest. you never know when the weather gods might need a little assistance. Oh, please let it snow......
Ooooh, juicy words. I love to hear poetry used in everyday language. It is like the brown sugar in the oatmeal making everything taste better.
In this case, the Starbucks customer was commenting on the extremely strange weather we have been having; apparently the lowest pressure front recorded in history here in Portland. We've been surprisingly rain-free, but our sunny days take shape between layers of fog. And.... it's freezing. I find myself humming along with , Baby It's Cold Outside, and really meaning it. Any precipitation would be snow at this point. I wish for it, but have discovered it is useless to believe I can control the weather.
This was actually something I learned at a young age. I had a valid reason for being convinced I was one of a few people with some authority when it came to weather. I didn't much like growing up with the last name, Sprinkle; I am sure you can imagine all that was done with that by way of elementary school teasing. The only thing that made listening to "a sprinkle a day, helps keep odor away," in any way worthwhile was the idea that I alone could wish for (and get) snow or rain or sun.
But, growing up in California I was mostly wise enough not to test my powers with the snow thing... the sun and rain, however, were clearly at my command. Still, after years of sunny Christmas holidays, by the second or third grade I felt ready to call on my authority to produce a sledding hill on our street. I guess I must not have realized that even with snow, our flat street would not have been conducive to good sledding. It was a moot point. Of course it didn't snow; and I began my downward spiral of realizing there was not, in fact, any good reason why my last name, at best was a type of cupcake topping, and at worst rhymed with tinkle.
There isn't much teasing you can do with the last name, Wilsted though; and for the most part, I am entirely grateful about that. Hopefully my daughter will have one less thing to have to defend. But every now and then, such as when a catchy name might help me sell a book, a little part of me misses that juicy last name.
And in fact, I did keep Sprinkle as a middle name; Because, let's be honest. you never know when the weather gods might need a little assistance. Oh, please let it snow......
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