MJ’S Musings: Claustrophobic Feet

A social media acquaintance, after reading my lament about not being able to wear a pair of fun and funky boots, even though an ad for them beckoned me for months, said I had claustrophobic feet.

What a perfect description!

My reason is that my feet cannot abide being trapped inside boot or sneakers. If I can’t easily kick off my footwear, I don’t wear it.

But I really wanted those boots. So I bought them. I wear them.

They are cute as all get out. I am, however, of an age, where comfort should take precedence over cute. And I can’t wear them a full work day. By mid-afternoon, I am shoeless at my desk.

I live in a part of the US where we have winter. We have snow. We have feet of snow. So yes, I wear snow boots. And if we’re at an event in the winter, and I have to wear boots for any length of time, I go crazy.

But I’ve ruined several pairs of shoes in the spring when it rains because I just can’t abide wearing snow boots. My solution? Rain boots. Gardening boots.

Again, cute as can be. At least my poor feet won’t be stuck in them for hours.

Flipflop weather is around the corner.

MJ Monday: MJ’s Manuscript-Betrayed By Moon Exceprt

I’m pulling pieces of the manuscript before revisions, so these selections may change in the published version.

 

Selena stopped next to a neon cowboy hat advertising roast beef sandwiches and lifted her face to the night sky. Light pollution from the city cloaked most of the stars, although a few planets pierced the haze. The moon, waxing her way to the Milk Moon of May, begged for a song.

Selena sniffed the air as a precaution. No danger mingled in the hint of rancid grease from fast-food franchises, a rotting Dumpster, or the dog droppings someone hadn’t scooped. A smoldering cigarette added to the potpourri. Faintly, indiscernible to most humans, lilies of the valley leant their fragrance to the night. 

Selena resumed her jog. College town, the area around Warwick College, was safe enough. Still, she remained alert, her nose, her ears, and her eyes at the ready. She’d been careless once. Never again.

MJ’s Musings: Book Bingo: Sports Romance

Update on my Book Reading Bingo progress: I filled the “Romance with a Sporting Chance” square by reading Jean C. Joachim’s DAN ALEXANDER, PITCHER.

Baseball romance. YAY! I really enjoyed this book. I loved the whole idea of a woman hiding out in plain sight as “the hot dog girl” at a major league baseball stadium.  Loved the characters.

My only problem with the story had to do with the end. MINOR SPOILER ALERT:  if the government was hiding the heroine from the mob, the seriousness of her situation required…more than it was given in this story. That didn’t sit well with me.

Overall, however, I found this book to be a quick, fun read.

 

MJ Monday: MJ’s Music–The McGarrigles

Back in the last millennium, I was introduced to a duo of folk singers named Kate & Anna McGarrigle. Their voices were unusual; their music–most of which they wrote–was unique. Kate was married to Loudon Wainwright III of “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road” fame (whom I saw in concert  with Bob Dylan). Their son is Rufus Wainwright, who has carried on the family’s musical heritage.

They wrote songs other artists covered: Linda Ronstadt’s “Heart Like a Wheel” is a McGarrigle composition.

They covered other artists, too. I love their Cajun version of Bob Seger’s “You’ll Accompany Me.”

Kate passed away in 2010.

I purchased digital versions of my favorite McGarrigle albums a few years back. Now, a lot of the music sounds kind of whiny to me, but some is still fresh and delightful.

This is probably my favorite McGarrigle song.

 

MJ’s Musings: Another Pet Peeve

I

I use my own shopping bags. Have for years. I keep them in the trunk of my car so I always have them with me.

Every time I grocery shop, I tell the cashier, “Please don’t make the bags too heavy.” And every time, the cashier loads as much as s/he can into each bag.  It’s not as if I am costing the store money by using too many bags. I use my own. I’m saving them money.  I say please. I’m nice about it.

When you’re short and already can’t deal with the too-tall shopping carts, lifting a too heavy bag is painful.  We’re supposed to lift from our knees, not our backs. Not in my supermarket’s parking lot.

Even worse is when the cashier in his/her zeal to cram as much into each bag as humanly possible starts crushing my popcorn and chips to make the packages fit. I had to tell one last week, “Stop crushing my chips!”

So yes, this is a pet peeve of mine.