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Sunday, September 27, 2009

Polar Caps to Cold Feet

As a woman who can no longer figure her age without the aid of a scientific calculator, a sheaf of graph paper, and a Number Two pencil, I completely understand the concept of global warming.

I've just hit the half century mark and I don’t break out the sweaters and scarves unless ice is forming under my fingernails. Mother Earth has got me beat by a few decades, give or take a period of conquering hordes, a roving band of dinosaurs, and a Crusade or two. I figure tornado-force winds come from her fanning herself to keep cool.

In my younger years I was the first in the neighborhood to break out the faux fur and firewood, but these days my polar cap is melting at a rapid rate, which is the only explanation I can find for my humid hairstyle and damp T-Shirt. If I had to hold the heat of all the people on Earth, there would be a spike in the number of new oceans, not to mention some even greater lakes, and not a small increase in tributaries. All of these new bodies of water would spring to life in the wee hours of the morning accompanied by a good bit of tossing and turning and 37 trips to the bathroom.

It's odd, though, how the temperature of the whole is greater than the degrees of the parts. My behind is the permanent victim of Chinook winds and my feet are wedged firmly in an Antarctic ice floe. But I wear the Equator like a halo above my sweatsoaked brow.

I don’t really mind the aging process. The popping of my joints makes for a lively rhythmic beat to keep me from napping at my desk in the afternoons, and I’ve become accustomed to wandering from room to room searching for a clue as to what I was looking for in the first place. But if Mother Earth is ahead of me in menopause years, I can understand why history repeats itself.

She lost her place and had to start over.

6 comments:

Mysti said...

Ah, so true!

If there is one thing I've learned over the years is never to expect the same thing out of my body! Hot, cold or somewhere in between (like now my feet are ice cold and I'm hotter than the oven broiling a hunk of meat!)

Jenny Greenleaf said...

Even though I'm younger, I can SO relate! I started "this" cycle when I was 30 for some weird reason we haven't been able to figure out, and it's annoying. "Thank goodness for Estroven," is all I have to say about this ______! :-) ::sighs:: It's fun to laugh about it, though!!! :-D

Nancy said...

Cold weather is for sissies. As I say to hubs when I refuse to close the bedroom windows, "Oh, don't be a baby, it's 50 degrees out!"

colbymarshall said...

Have you ever thought of recording the joint popping and cutting a CD? It could make for nice dance music!

the Bag Lady said...

I take tropical vacations and never leave the farm - constantly!!

The newest twist? My internal thermometer plunges to "ice cap", ensuring I have a sweater on when I'm suddenly transported to Louisiana in July, except without the scenery. Sigh. What did I ever do to warrant such a nasty betrayal from my own body? I've kept it well fed... err... over fed?... through all these years. And this is the thanks I get?
*mutter mutter*

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