I’ve got my mornings down pat. Alarm goes off… hit snooze button three times. Shower, makeup then downstairs to let the dog out. Breakfast, time with God…then upstairs to get dressed. Back down… run outside and start the car. Fix hair, grab snack, pat dog’s head, layer scarf, coat, gloves…and I’m off.
Like a well oiled Alaskan machine, this girl.
It was a cold morning by my definition….and that definition changes often. Though 40 degrees can feel cold in September, it can be a heat wave in December. But -7 is cold in March. -7 is cold in ANY month. That’s when the “start the car” portion of my morning gets really important. Like, really. I don’t have a garage, folks.
Everything was going according to plan that day until…
I pulled my front door shut and started for the car, but something was holding me back. Literally. My skirt was stuck in the door. The locked door. And it was my FAVORITE fluffy skirt, not just some old wreck. I tugged gently, but it was in there and wasn’t coming out.
My house key was in my running car about 20 feet away.
What would you do?
I like skirts. I always have. I like the way they make me feel feminine. They also allow me to feel defiant…it’s my way of telling the frozen tundra I live in to go ahead and throw any temperature it wants at me, but I refuse to be defeated.
I was struggling to come up with a title for my blog, and was asked what its purpose was. Truth is, I have a lot of stuff to SAY. So that’s the purpose. I hope to make you laugh…and I hope to make you cry as I share happenings from my life and log home up here in Alaska
She Likes Skirts J