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Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Temperatures Rise Above Freezing, Local Woman Discovers Reason to Go On

I’m feeling particularly Scandinavian lately. Not the pretty, blue-eyed, let’s-take-our-clothes-off-and-sit-in-the-sauna Scandinavian either but the dark, brooding type sitting on an isolated farm off amongst the fjords, throwing knives into the floorboards and whistling eerie, minor-chorded dirges.

Why go on? The world is gray, cold and lifeless. I’ve not gone outside without winter boots on for four full months and there’s at least a month more to go. A short-sleeved shirt is now tantamount to flashing one’s bare breasts at passing motorists: shocking, pale, familiar yet painfully naked; and I’m now down to shaving my legs once a month – whether I need it or not.

I dreamt the other night of – and get this – fruit hanging from trees.

Fruit! In trees! Ha ha ha!

I await spring, no longer confident of what it looks like but only sure that I’ve seen it before.

These have been my thoughts for several days now. I share them because I can’t be alone in this. Because if I don’t share them my next coping strategy is to take up competitive drinking.

Because, contrary to how I feel about any given moment, there is always hope; and this time, hope comes in the form of a single, knitted glove.

Let me explain.

Two months ago, my favorite gloves went missing. Rightie and Stinky, I called them.

Stinky, by the way, didn’t deserve his lot in life but by default became the glove with which I picked up litter. Winter litter doesn’t literally stink, of course, as it tends to be frozen, but “Stinky” became his name, primarily because “Garbage Glove” seemed disrespectful while Stinky seemed kind of home-y.

I digress.

Whatever I named them, they disappeared. O, how I cried. I looked. I called. I tried to envision them (if I were a glove, where would I be?)

And while I stopped short of posting “Have You Seen These Accessories?” fliers, both Rightie and Stinky left a glove-shaped hole in my wintery heart.

I loved those dang gloves.

Let us fast-forward then, from that terrible morning when I realized they were gone, to yesterday, because there, in the filthy snow-plowed ridge of snow in the street outside of the house, its once five-foot mass reduced by the slowly increasing temperatures to a glacier-like solemnity with its stratified ice-snow-salt-dirt tale of the season, was one, lone, outstretched finger of my left glove: one brown, frozen, defiant finger aimed squarely at the elements.

Was it the index finger, pointing toward the sky? Was it the middle finger, taunting and insolent, a wintry "up yours"? Was it perhaps, even, the thumb, a cosmic "everything's OK"?

Is it important?

I kicked around for the other glove but have yet to find it.

But now, there is hope, and I thought you should know.

Stinky the Glove lives.

Long live Stinky!


I know it’s a reach, but a gal needs her hope, don’t she?

53 comments:

George said...

A real feel good story if ever there was one.

Pearl said...

George, let the bells ring! Spring is coming. Soon. Maybe.

Simply Suthern said...

Somebody needs to hop a de-iced plane and head south for a few days.

Should have let me known about Stinky and Righty. I just bought new gloves for the girls here and I could've put them on the next Dogsled north. Nothing says Happy Valentines like new work gloves dont ya think?

Yea I know new gloves wouldnt be same but shove them in a few trash cans and you'll never know the difference.

Oilfield Trash said...

Hang in there, spring is just around the corner.

Pearl said...

Simply, a de-iced plane is sounding pretty good...

OT, it soitenly is, and I cannot wait for the post I write the first day I leave the house without boots on. :-)

Cheeseboy said...

It is 55 degrees here today and it is the first time it has been above freezing in 3 months. Spring hit us like a slap in the face today. Unfortunately, it is supposed to snow Friday.

I liked your names for your gloves. Fitting. Do you have names for all of your clothing items?

Pearl said...

Cheeseboy, apparently you've missed the post on Leftie and Stompie, my black flats. :-) Honestly, no, I do not name my clothing. Unless we're particularly close. One develops unreasonable relationships with clothing when forced to wear them DAY IN AND DAY OUT FOR MONTHS AND MONTHS AT A TIME!!!

Ack. I'm sorry -- I may have some unresolved issues regarding the current season...

Elizabeth said...

Just like the classic fable/Johnny Cash song A Boy Named Sue, a glove named Stinky grows up tough. It's no stranger to the cold hard streets and their gray dingy snow banks. It can take care of itself.

I am a bit worried about Rightie, though. What kind of a name is that for a Minnesotan glove?

Sausage Fingers said...

In your honor I will go outside and grab an orange from the tree and give it a gloveless sausage squeeze for you. The juice dripping on the ground is a sacrificial offering to those bound by northern pains of snow and ice. Yum fresh squeezed OJ, anyone have vodka....
I suppose you will be "In State" soon based on your mental state...
All the best.
Sausage...

haphazardlife said...

I feel your pain. Everything is grey and dead. The streets are grey, the cars are grey, the very people are grey. I'm at the point where I no longer believe spring will actually ever come.

To add insult to injury, I have a friend in Denmark, up there in frozen Scandinavia - the snow? it has been gone for a while already.

I hate Montreal.

laughingmom said...

Rightie, Stinky, sound like the mob. Professional hit?

Deborah said...

Brilliantly written and sooo funny! LOL :O)

Pearl said...

Elizabeth, excellent points, all. (And Rightie wants you to know that, despite her name, she tends to vote Democrat, although she more fully identifies as Libertarian.)

:-D

Pearl said...

Sausage, I am SO enjoying the idea of you squeezing some orange juice for me. :-) Kind of like a gangsta spilling a 40 on the ground for his dear, departed homies...

haphazard, it's an amazing and true fact that the winters in Minneapolis and Montreal are tougher than northern Europe.

laughinmom, they were the head of the accessories family! Honestly, I think the caps have it out for them...

Deborah, I'm glad you liked it!! :-)

Eva Gallant said...

I would love to know what your mother ate and drank during pregnancy that caused you to be born with such a quirky brain! You're too funny!

Pearl said...

Eva, :-) The woman was raised on a farm, so I'm going to guess that there was a lot of butter involved. :-)

Douglas said...

I thought, just for a moment, you were going to admit being a former member of the Swedish Bikini Team and certain thoughts entered my mind. I can't help you with that glove, I am known to wear only one... not in a Michael Jackson sense... golf will do that to you. I have some I do not use, they sit idly in the bottom drawer of my bureau... plotting their escape.

Jeanette Levellie said...

So glad Stinky turned up. She is a glutton for punishment no doubt.

I prayed to laugh today--we've had 2 funerals in 10 days--and God used YOU to answer!

The Vegetable Assassin said...

Good news in the frozen butt hole of winter, for sure. Long Live Stinky!

I think we need t-shirts...

Pearl said...

Douglas, I appreciate the thought, anyway. :-)

Jeanette, I am so glad to have been what you need today. :-)

VA, "I Survived Yet Another Winter and All I Got was My Lousy Glove BAck"?!

rosaria said...

So glad for your visit to the milder territory of sixtyfivewhatnow, winds almost hurricane force while you stopped by from your winter-haven.
Now I know where your sense of humor finds strength and inspiration!
May Stinky keep challenging spring to get its act together and make an entrance as soon as it dresses for the part.

Sweet Cheeks said...

Perhaps Rightie and Stinkie had a 'falling out'?

Was there jealousy between them...given that poor Stinkie had to handle all that refuse, whilst Rightie had all the fun waving at people and shaking hands?

Conspiracy, me thinks.
=]

karen said...

Hope the other glove pops up. Thawing is good.

It was seventy two here yesterday.

jLow said...

I say we trade for a couple of weeks: I can go north and enjoy some snow. You come down south to Texas and enjoy the 80° days we are expecting this weekend.

Mandy's Kidding said...

I don't think I've ever had a pair of gloves survive more than one winter. I think they fly south. Catch the first plan to Miami with no goodbye or thanks for the memories for me.

Kristy said...

It drives me crazy every year waiting for those blooms on the trees.

Blissed-Out Grandma said...

I have several single gloves around the house, each waiting for its mate to show up. Most have been waiting for years, so I think it's safe to toss 'em. The USPS says it delivered a package on Dec. 8, which I think may be under the 4 feet of snow next to the front steps. With all this melting, I'm going out this afternoon to see what I can find.

Cloudia said...

look at how many people are fed by your quirky joy!

Thanks for being a good force in the world, Pearl




Aloha from Honolulu (come see some sun :)
Comfort Spiral

><}}(°>

Linda O'Connell said...

There's a nightgown thief in my house. I know how frantic you have been!

lisleman said...

If you do take up competitive drinking - skip the knife throwing. One or the other but not both.

Sioux Roslawski said...

Perhaps if Stinky crooks its finger in a "Come hither" gesture, Righty will appear?

Gigi said...

Competitive drinking sounds like a very good plan should Spring not show up soon.

Mamma has spoken said...

It has gotten so warm here that I wanted to go outside and dig in the dirt! Of course there are still piles of snow in my flower beds....

PAMO said...

I've been following your funny, well written blog for awhile now, but have never left a comment. Why? Take today for example. I read your first sentence and am intrigued. I read your second sentence and am in awe at the beauty of that sentence. Then I read more and I'm laughing and suddenly I'm blinded by the brilliance of your skill.

By the time I get down to the comment section, I am a total mess. Even trying to write out one sentence is a strain. I can't see, I can't type, I can't think. Even today, I had to read your post, leave the computer for no less than four hours before returning. I mean who else could come up with a glove named Stinky and make me care???

Sign me A HUGE, HUGE FAN!!! Love your work.

Belle said...

My daughter and I were just talking about how we want to run away together somewhere. Somewhere warm with a sun.

Leenie said...

YOU ARE NOT ALONE!! (takes the broom and swings it at the icicles barring the kitchen window).

Kal said...

I have to admit that you are my favorite writer on the Interwebby Tubes. You have the greatest way of taking something already funny and making it even funnier. Inspired madness from the refuse of everyday life. I wish you only warm weather so both your bare arms and bare breasts can be soaked in the rays of the sun.

The Inside said...

Why not name your accessories? There's nothing ELSE to do when your entire house is under a mountain of snow! Personally, I name my bras...
Pearl, let me tell you why I first looked at your blog - I thought perhaps you were a long lost distant relative? Well, no. But looking at the title of it brought back a couple of memories. "Why, you little..." Growing up, I thought for the first few years that my name was "Damnit, Janet!" Being as how my mother's name was Pearl, I felt a certain kinship to your misbehavin' ways. So I stopped to read, and yessir, I liked it! AND, it reminded me to keep looking for my wonderful (and lost) black Thinsulate gloves. Alas! If they had only stuck around long enough to be named! Butcha know... if Stinky showed up, then there's hope for me, too!

Kate Mohler said...

Very funny! I had a glove malfunction similar to yours this "winter" in Arizona...had to wear a sock on my left hand for a couple days. And this: I picked lemons today! Off my neighbors' TREE! Maybe you were dreaming of my life. :-)

On My Soapbox said...

I'll be a lot happier when Summer arrives. If it ever does. :-(

Andrew Green said...

I understand how you feel....
I, too, lose my motivation, in general, when the winter hits the three month mark or so. and now I've got the flu. I really wish this season would end.

Symdaddy said...

I just lost a £500 watch (strap broke when walking the dogs) so I know exactly how you are feeling.

Rawknrobyn.blogspot.com said...

But, but, what finger was it?
I'm glad you got your Stinkie back.
xoRobyn

Tempo said...

It's a bit hard to envisage winter when the sun is shining still, the warm breezes blow and Autumn calls from far off. But I'll try hard to feel sorry for you Pearl...honest I will.
Best you grab your axe and fishing pole, go out and hack a hole in that lake to catch a fish or two...

hoodyhoo said...

I just lost a glove myself, but I'm more annoyed than heartbroken, so we must not have had as good a relationship... and I'm convinced this horrible winter weather is solely responsible for the size of my rear end...

Boom Boom Larew said...

Yay! Stinky! Life is worth living again! May Rightie emerge from the frozen tundra soon to join her mate.

Lana Banana said...

"rightie" and "stinky left" are exactly the same pet names my ex-boyfriend had for his . . . oh, never mind . . .

Jhon Baker said...

thank you for the laugh - I hope you find righty soon - stinky may get lonely. I would go down the snow banks a bit thinking that a plow pushed them apart.

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

It's the state of things when you're frozen too long. You lose gloves, your mind...

Pat Tillett said...

I can totally picture you standing on a stage, telling your stories...
You are so darn funny and creative!
I'll never look at my gloves the same way again.

Anonymous said...

I just love a good 'glove' story.

Susan in the Boonies said...

Yeah, it's actually a need-to-know important kind of detail.

My money is on the glove giving winter the finger.

Except: isn't that a glove's lot in life, to deal with winter? Isn't that kind of its raison d'etre?

Could it, perhaps, have been giving its careless owner a bit of what-for?

raespace said...

I love your writing. I too pick litter and identified with Stinky. But I have not named my gloves.
I am in the Great White North (Candada), picking garbage in my back lane in Winnipeg, Manitoba, making my part of the universe a cleaner place.
Check out my blog at ADayInTheHood.blogspot.com