Explorers have described the creature on the left as having blue fur and a pink nose. The biped on the right is wearing what is known as a “Dr. Phil Audio-Repellent Hat” when the show is being viewed in an adjoining room in the igloo.

1 made myself think of planting things that would grow in a little garden area, and then I became aware of Thugo looking over my shoulder. He remarked, “Ah, you are looking at the Holy Seed? AUuUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHH

Schools were closed today because of icy roads and a just a little while ago I heard sleet whipping against the windows. Actually, I’m thinking about Inspector Clouseau and the schools being “clos-ED” – I have no idea why I keep hearing this in my mind, but I suspect it is an omen my day will be more eccentric than usual. That is to say, I, AmeliaJake, will not know what I am doing until I have done it and I am not sure if even then I will know.

I do feel a great swell of silliness inside me just wanting to break free. FREE FREE FREE . . . Maybe it has something to do with my research on Ugly Dolls, prompted by the arrival of the Thugos (formerly the Trunkos) and the Babos (who are still the Babos). I followed the press link and found this article from the NY Times.

Come to think of it, I suppose only Big Trunko became Thugo, after the miracle of the purple smoke, and Little Trunko is still Little Trunko, although the “Little” would no longer be necessary. Then again, if Thugo were to resign, would he revert to being Big Trunko?

Okay, I’m going to quit fooling around here. This is the straight dope: I am feeling all these Pope analogy jokes fermenting inside of me. Yes they are doing it all by themselves, I am not fomenting them, consciously, that is. Oh, dear, I’m confused again. Oh, I guess that’s confus-ED.

Oh, let’s say it at the end of May when I found out my blood sugar was considered high and in June when I leaned a lobe of my parathyroid gland was going crazy. I was so totally bummed that I cried, mainly because I felt bad about the sugar thing and my lifestyle. So I started keeping my eating mouth closed, saving my razor sharp tongue for words and not chips and cookies and, oh, lots of food things. After about six weeks, I started walking . . . in one of the hottest summers we’ve had for awhile. And I lost weight.

The days got short and cold and with family issues I was unable to make it to the Y to compensate for my early morning or late, late evening trudges. But, now, those days are getting longer and warmer – although it’s been kind of raw lately – and I need to quit “holding my own” and start “losing some more of my own”. How much “own” I should lose is an undetermined number at this time. I guess I need to lose everything that jiggles and ripples.

That’s a place to start. I’ve got my new shoes and heel cushions. Maybe I ought to add a couple of basic yoga exercises; maybe I should keep a daily record of how close I can get my foot to my nose? No, I think I need to give this more thought.

UPDATE: I’ve given this post more thought – but not about getting a spring in my step because spring is nigh. Sigh. I just looked at the weather site and the first headline I saw was about winter not fading away. This week we are going to have a high of 30 on one day with the low down to 20 degrees. I may declare this the “week of fires” and get some exercise toting firewood . . . and doing yoga toe movements by the hearth. Hey, there could be such exercises.

I have it in my head to do something today. But what? I went to Sears and got HEPA vacuum bags and could go around sucking the heck out of the carpets, maybe even get down on my hands and knees and suck stuff from beneath the refrigerator. Or I could not do that. Tsk. A difficult decision. I could read the instructions to the band sander or the electric chainsaw. Yeah, a little floor sanding, some wood filler, replacement tile and voila. I don’t think my 3 pm enthusiasm would last long enough. Sort of a flimsy excuse, but it’s the best I can do on short notice. I don’t suppose I should read the chainsaw instructions because my enthusiasm might not wane. I’ll bet I’ve got 300+ feet of electric cord – that could give me quite a cutting radius. Question is: Do I love the smell of sawdust in the late afternoon? Do I want to vacuum up that sawdust through my HEPA filters?

Actually, I think I’ll get cleaned up and go to the nursing home, sit with Kathryn and Dorothy and Marilyn in the dining room and then go prop my feet up on Kathryn’s bed and read while she rests. I could take a peek in her candy box and practice self-control in relation to my first paragraphs’ expression of intent.

It occurs to me that I have been having this back and forth could do this, could do that monologue in a few frequent post – almost like there are tasks out there hanging over my head that in all truth I don’t want to do. Gee, could that be possible?

Look at this cow:

I don’t knit, but Mother did and she took on projects. I don’t know, maybe I could have talked her into knitting a five foot tall cow . . . Just a thought.

The cow pattern picture cam be found HERE at THIS SITE.

Then again, she might have taken it into her head to knit a five-foot AmeliaJake who would be the same size, but much quieter than the real one. Of course, then she would have had two AmeliaJakes and maybe would have kept one locked in the attic.

The sun is coming through my March windows and I am seeing corners of my digs that have been in serious shadows. I am seeing DUST. At first, I thought, “Ah, rats, look at all that dust.” Then I saw the little boy in the Bruce Willis movie and I heard the statement, “I see dead people.”

Of course, I could have just chuckled and go about my normal erratic thinking patterns, but today it seems I am on a more than usual convoluted maze and am stuck in a dead-end  corner (no pun intended) with the little boy, Bruce Willis and the  . . . you know . . . seeing dead people.

I decided I ‘d better use action to get my body chemicals moving and my endorphins stimulated and just GET UP AND CLEAN THE HOUSE. (Well, some small part of it.) The first thing that occurred to me to do was going at the fireplaces. My mind is too slow this morning; it had failed to leap ahead to what I would see. Yes, ashes.

Ashes to ashes; dust to dust.

I guess my nest step is to listen to some really upbeat music on my ipod.

Look HERE for an important announcement.

Oh, I don’t suppose it’s too much snow and Friday is supposed to be in the high 40’s, but right now we have snow and wind and it “feels like” 14 degrees. To top it off, today is Trash Stomping Day – you know the day I climb up the step ladder and then on top of air-filled trash bags so they will sink down into the trash can(s).

Oh, yes, I also remember I left the car half in and half out of the garage because at the last minute I realized my backseat needed to be emptied and the tower of firewood against the inner garage wall left little maneuvering space. All I had to do was run back out and pull the car a few feet forward but I forgot. SIGH.

There is one more thing about March snow that Summer relishes . . . it makes good snowballs.