I think this November is broken. It is unnatural for it to be this warm. I feel like there is some Rankin/Bass adventure going on somewhere out there. A little woodland creature is on a hunt to find Winter (which has gone into hiding because it felt unloved). I wish that furry little hero the best of luck. Find our beloved Winter and let him know we DO need him. I'm sure Herbert (the name of our animal adventurer) is running into many obstacles and possibly making some friends along the way. He may be joined by such companions as Penny, the South African Penguin who dreams of snow. Or Jack, the cross country skier with two left feet. They'll do their best to make it through the Valley of Heat, governed by the Evil Roberta, hater of all things Winter-like. God-speed little friends.
Friday night I made my way downtown to see a favorite musician of mine play. She was playing at Yoga One, making promises of an "intimate night of music." Well, they delivered. Upon entering the yoga studio where the event was being held, everyone removed their shoes. We sat on the floor, on yoga mats or blankets. Wine was flowing, people were chatting. It was like a musical picnic in the middle of a dance studio. There was alot of group snapping and whistling as the night progressed. 2 1/2 hours later we departed, a little stiff, but thoroughly content.
As you may have noticed, I mentioned group whistling. Sadly, I was unable to participate seeing as how I cannot for the life of me make any sort of sound resembling a whistle. Maybe resembling a dying, mute bird, but not a whistle. The yoga studio, resonating with the sounds of whistles, was definitely a bitter sweet place for a few minutes. I was enjoying the whistling, basking in it almost, but thoroughly disheartened that I couldn't contribute to the joy.
Do you know of any whistling lessons? Is it even something that can be taught?
i can't whistle either. we can sulk about that and the weather together, of you please.
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