Yes, I must confess - as I hang my head in shame - I'm one of THOSE people.
I own a Snuggie.
I own a Snuggie.
It's a rich caramel color which blends nicely with the colors of my sofas - living room style is, after all, what's important, right? You're thinking, style? Did she really just say style? A blanket with sleeves HAS no style!!
Don't we hate hospital gowns because they have openings at the back? Don't we hate a rush of cold air? Then tell me please, how this is different.
Don't we hate hospital gowns because they have openings at the back? Don't we hate a rush of cold air? Then tell me please, how this is different.
Just the word 'Winter' causes me to shiver. It's a time of dread that begins around June 22 - that slow descent to the dark place that can choke the life right out of you, or shall I say, me.
People who love the snow and relish each and every opportunity to snowboard, ski, snowshoe and more, have my respect because in a perfect world, my perfect world, there would be just three seasons. Warm, Warmer and Warmest.
Now you're shaking your head in disbelief. The romantic in you is imagining a white winter wonderland, lying on a bear rug in front of an open fire enjoying a glass of eggnog, all cuddled up warm and cozy with the special person in your life - not bundled up wading through slush, shoveling snow or playing dodgem cars in the (ice rink) parking lot. My romance with 'The White Stuff' begins and ends with a snowball - or two, and making snow angels with my children when they were younger.
People who love the snow and relish each and every opportunity to snowboard, ski, snowshoe and more, have my respect because in a perfect world, my perfect world, there would be just three seasons. Warm, Warmer and Warmest.
Now you're shaking your head in disbelief. The romantic in you is imagining a white winter wonderland, lying on a bear rug in front of an open fire enjoying a glass of eggnog, all cuddled up warm and cozy with the special person in your life - not bundled up wading through slush, shoveling snow or playing dodgem cars in the (ice rink) parking lot. My romance with 'The White Stuff' begins and ends with a snowball - or two, and making snow angels with my children when they were younger.
It's precisely at this time when the grip of winter is at its tightest that the call of the home I love - Africa - is its loudest. You see this little picanin (a Zulu word meaning small child) was born in the land of the wild, of red clay earth, of spectacular thunderstorms and.... year round sunlight.
Sadly fantasizing about hot Summer days lying at the pool enjoying a long cool drink (with an umbrella in it) must be left for another day. It's time to don the Slanket, sit under a sunlamp and contemplate what life would be like...... as a BEAR! Sleeping for half the year, no restrictive diet, and no need for painful waxing.
