We’re thick in the middle of an inversion here, and it makes the fog/smog thick, and the air heavy with pollution. And it’s dang cold. I’m freezing all the time! Hopefully there’s a storm coming through in the next few days to blow all this ick out of the valley, and then we can see our beautiful mountains again.

I heard on the radio that we are NOT supposed to exercise today because of the poor air quality. Ok. I won’t.

What? That only applies to outside exercise? Well, they didn’t SAY that. I heard NO exercise, so that’s what I’m going by.

I had the weirdest dream last night! I dreamed we moved to…well, I don’t want to offend anyone, so I’ll just say we were moving to “Somewhere else”. I hated it. I had a friend there, (Joan Cusack, actually) and she had told everyone at church about her wonderful friend, Paige, who was moving there and how much they would all love me. When we got there, we went to church, and everyone was wearing their red team sweatshirts and sweaters and jeans. At church. Hmmm. We Mormons usually dress up for church, but I guess things are different there. My friend kept introducing us to people, but with their thick accents I had to keep asking them what they had just said, and still wasn’t understanding. I did a lot of smiling and nodding, but I wasn’t fooling anyone. They would look at Joan, and say, “Well, I don’t like her.”

Our house was small, and had about 6 feet of yard on all sides of the house. I tried to meet neighbors and they all turned away from me and wouldn’t talk or get to know me at all. I was so sad.

This morning Ryan put his arm around me in bed, and all I could say was, “Please don’t make me move to “Somewhere else”. They don’t like me there.” He reassured me that there’s not much chance of us moving to that particular place in the near future. Good. I like it here.

But I’ve still been thinking about that dream today. Wondering why those people didn’t like me, and wondering how long it would take until I got used to things and the new neighborhood and all that. As if we really were moving! How silly is that?

Don’t you hate it when you dream something that’s so real, and then you think about it during the day and wonder about things in your dream? Or am I the only one that does that?

As one who loves musicals, I got a real kick out of this one. I hope you enjoy it, too.

Yesterday I went bowling with the preschool set. So much fun! John’s preschool teacher always has a bowling field trip, and I try to go to that one every year. It’s just a hoot to see these four and five year olds bowl. Of course they use the bumpers, so the most out of control throw could net you a strike, if you’re lucky. They can also use the ramps, if they want, so they don’t even have to do much except carry a ball over from the ball holding thing-y, put it on the ramp, and give it a little push. The adventurous ones ended up taking at least few turns hucking their own bowling balls.

I took the four little boys that are in our carpool. Since I already had all the seats in my car, they just got back in and went with me. John and his boys are pretty tight. They’ve all been together for the past couple of years, with preschool, playgroup and primary. There are 8 boys roughly the same age. Some of them went to kindergarten this year, some went back to preschool. Sadly, there are no girls that age in the neighborhood, but John’s got plenty of friends. So I was in charge of getting my four boys going on the bowling thing. I got their shoes, put away their own shoes and coats, and set them up for the game. I let each boy “type” in his own name, which was fun for them. Then we got started.

There were squeals of joy and even some “Oh, Yeah!”s when they knocked down a few pins. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Until some of the boys on John’s “team” started scoring spares and strikes. John hadn’t had such luck, yet, and was getting discouraged. He got upset and tearful and said, “Why do I NEVER get a strike, and they ALWAYS do?!” He was taking out his frustration and anger with his score on me. Each time he went up to bowl, he would be discouraged by his 6 or 7 just because he didn’t get them ALL. He had a little breakdown, and was soon crying. His teacher assured me that he was doing this all for my benefit, and I agree that if I hadn’t been there, he would have been fine. The other boys are quite competitive and kept asking who was winning. I tried to sidestep the question and said, “Look! Together you have over 200 points!” But they weren’t buying it. “But who’s in first place?” they asked. These kids have older siblings, and know that the score is important. The teacher heard one of them asking and said, “We’re all winners if we’re having fun!” Yes, it’s a generic answer, but it quieted the questions for a few minutes, at least.

John finished off my diet coke (and felt all sneaky about it), and then it was his turn to bowl again. He took his ball up there, and his friends were right by his side. I was amazed that they were being not competitive, but supportive with him. One of the boys patted him on the shoulder and said, “You can do it, John.” They helped him adjust his ramp to maximize his chance of getting a strike or a spare.
I love this picture of friends supporting each other. It didn’t really help. I felt bad for him, but was irritated that he was throwing such a fit. It’s just bowling, for heaven’s sake. You don’t have to “win” to have fun doing it.

On the last frame, those boys got lucky. Three out of the four of them got spares! Of course, that extra turn really messes them up, when they are used to bowling TWO times. Oh well, some of them got extra turns, but it wasn’t always the one who had bowled the spare. Even John got a spare! Hooray for small miracles. He ended the game happy, even if he was discouraged through the game. It turned out to be lots and lots of fun.

After I took the boys back to school, I had almost an hour to kill. Knowing that there was some clearance going on, I made my way to old navy. I wanted to look at their coats, since my standard black wool coat is about three years old and starting to get a little bit ratty looking. But what to my wondering eyes should appear, but this coat.
Be still, my heart, I think I’m in love. I must have that red trench coat. It’s so cute. I tried it on, and it fits great. No, it’s not a warm winter coat, it’s more of a spring coat or warmer jacket for winter, but I love it. But, no, it’s not on sale, and I can’t just spend $49.50 on a coat for myself. It’s January, and I’m trying to get our finances all in order and stuff like that. And it’s not even on sale. Ugh. Sadly, I hung the coat back on it’s rack and went to look at the clearance coats, but even at 70% off, I couldn’t find anything I really liked. So, I’ll be searching the web for a coupon code, watching the Old Navy sales, and maybe looking elsewhere to find THAT coat. Do you have an Old Navy gift card you’d like to donate to the cause? Because I’m not above charity, y’all. I may have to wait a bit, but I believe in the end, if the stars align, I will end up with that coat. I could be all Scarlet O’Hara like and fall down on my knees and say, “I will never go without that coat again”, but that’s a little bit overdramatic, don’t you think?