Lint-Trap 1/12/01: Flannel
This is a rewritten entry after the Red-Hatted demons ate my original (see my 1/10 entry).
Today dawned overcast, but no more rain. Judging by the depth of the ponds and fountain, the estimate of 5 inches of rain in the last two days was pretty accurate, maybe even an underestimate. It never did snow here, although I thought I saw a few seconds of sleet. But the phones are still out. "You took all our rain" the phone lady said when I called in on my cellphone--she was in Washington state. Feh! They can have it. Or at least the few drops that I suspect are sitting between my computer and my ability to upload these entries.
When I lived on the East Coast, one time a 'tropical storm' came along and dropped 21 inches of rain in 36 hours. That was a pretty good flood, and by the time it stopped we were living on an island, probably 20 square miles unconnected by road to the rest of the USA. As with this storm, I still had electricity. I did walk half a mile through water that got up to waist height to buy some milk (it was late summer, and still warm). If it weren't for concern about my wife's 7-month pregnancy, it would have been a joyful adventure. Actually, it still was a joyful adventure.
I've got to tell you that I'm more cranky and upset about not having net access than I was when I couldn't drive anywhere. Probably a dozen times last night I thought of the email I wanted to send, the web site I wanted to refer to, the file I wanted from my office machine. Grrrrr.
But that's not what I want to write about...
I want to write about flannel. I'm a flannel kind of a guy. Flannel PJ's, flannel sheets, flannel shirts when appropriate.
Well last night, probably the coldest night of the year to date (the temperature almost got down to freezing! gee!) I made a rather serious miscalculation doing the laundry (did you know you have to close the top of the washer before it will wash your clothes?). The end result was that at bedtime all I had was damp flannel PJ's.
I am not a damp flannel kind of guy.
So I sucked it up and dove under the covers in the altogether.
Flannel sheets are wonderful. Almost immediately, I was bathed in this sensual warm feeling. It felt like I was two years old again, my mommy had just tucked me in, and the whole world was wonderful. I slept like a baby. And woke feeling the same way.
I now believe that PJ's are an evil Victorian invention whose sole purpose is to keep people from experiencing flannel sheets in the nude. Unabashedly sensual activities are sometimes kind of hard to come by for a single guy in his 50's living alone, especially sensual activities that are low in calories and don't cost much money. I'll take what comes my way. In fact, I think I'm getting a little sleepy already...
Thank you for reading.