Winter The Friendly Host

On the one hand, I'm Irish.

It’s hard to remember the color the leaves from the days behind us.  They changed without asking me to take notice, and now I am afraid the green has turned to brown and I missed the good parts in-between.  But there are many other reminders that the season has shifted.  We actually went to an NFL game at Wembly, for starters.  Football means Fall, or Autumn, and it was nice to see it arrive here across the pond.

The sun streaks across a much lower path and I am remiss to say the tint of my skin has changed just as quickly as the covering in Parson’s Green.  But that is okay since I cover up my Casper skin with layers. Layers, they say, are the key to keeping warm and hiding the winter glow from unsuspecting by-passers.  It's only fair that I cover the pasty-whiteness that will only deepen over the next few months.  Bye-bye tan-lines and hello Irish skin.

Winter is on its way and there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it but welcome the change.  That, and plan a vacation ... Southern Italy? 

Wonder Whether Weather is Worth it?

Stock photo of two amazing
hockey players enjoying the weather.

It has been a cornerstone of my postings, both here and on Facebook.  Weather is all around us and more now than ever it is a part of just about every virtual and real-time conversation I have.  Mom will not talk to me unless we address the barometric pressure in London and L.A.  To further the infiltration of weather patterns in my life, I am now tracking the climate that I, myself, created in a fictional story.  During the revision process, I am making sure that my prose describes the “ablest weather that can be had” and that the conditions jive from chapter to chapter so as not to disrupt the reader with poor quality, amateur weather.  My goodness this weather business is tedious.  On the one hand I want my character to see his breath, but on the other I want him to sweat.  I guess I better get a jacket involved.  Regardless, I wonder, whether weather is really worth it? 

I didn't mention her once today.

Mark Twain didn't think so in The American Claimant.  It was whilst reading the passage where he promised to lay off the use of weather that I unceremoniously crowned him as my favorite author (so much so that I watched the entire lifetime special on him, which I think is 18 hours long).  I have included this passage below, and though I think the best writer in American history was on to something, the fact that he vowed not to use weather as a fictional tool in his book was actually a strong use of it after all (which he was no doubt aware).

Mark Twain’s strong opinion on the importance of weather is further exemplified in his most famous, yet unauthenticated quote, that “the coldest winter [he] ever saw was the summer [he] spent in San Francisco.”  He has also said that “if you don’t like the weather in New England, just wait a few minutes.”  And finally, my favorite, he stated that “everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.”

Touché.  In my humble opinion, Mark Twain, in his infinite and celestial wisdom sealed the deal for wannabe-writers and conversationalists around the globe, talk of weather is here to stay and there aint nobody gonna do a thing about it (I know, for some just reading that will be painful, but that is kind of the point).  Back to revision…

Mr. Short-Sleeves in Severe Winter Weather Man

We have all seen these people before.  Perhaps we even know these people.  Bloody Hell, one of us may be in the gang of these people.  And who are these italicized people that are driving me crazy, you may ask?  

Really?

Individually, they are none other than that dude or dudette wearing a short sleeve shirt, or God forbid shorts, outside in the middle of a severe winter.  The phenomenon spans the globe, trust me.  I’ll tell you I am but one man and even I have now witnessed it on at least three different continents.  What is with these people?  [I admit that I have identified an entire class of people that are now subject to this rant – but they are not a protected class and I feel free as a bird to dig into their arrogant ways.]

London Snow and Santa Smells Like Beef and Cheese

Congratulations, World's Best
Cup of Coffee!
Great job, everybody!

Snow fell on London and our little neighborhood, Fulham, is covered by a not-so-warm blanket of fresh powder and ice.  Funky little euro cars are a slipping and a sliding and it is downright wonderful to spend an entire afternoon in our quaint IKEA pad.  Elf is on the telly, and a little touch of Kahlua in our instant-coffee seals the deal: Christmas season has officially graced the Giuliani Temporary Household.

An observation, if I may: stirring said coffee and liquor with a pen is oddly enjoyable.  Try it.

Happy Holidays from all of us at eternal domnation (i.e., me)!