My body knows! It can tell when the change is coming. It gets dark earlier and my shoulders get sore.
This is the weekend we change back to Eastern Standard Time locally. The clocks are only the tip of the iceberg.
In the old days (that would be two years ago) we also changed batteries in the smoke alarms. We did that until we had the incident.
Everyone has had that incident. The alarm starts beeping at 3 a.m. and nothing will stop it. You can pull out the battery but our system is hard-wired so it keeps beeping. In your sleep fog you can’t quite tell which one is the problem and in the morning there are ten smoke alarms on your front yard. I already wrote about that episode here.
We changed out our alarms for a system that doesn’t require semi-yearly battery changes. That doesn’t mean we are off the hook.
Clearly there are other things that happen at this time of the year.
There is the yuk stuff like washing the windows. I could do without that. Bringing out the snow blower and putting away garden tools.
I bring out my towel warmer. There is nothing better than a heated towel when you step out of the shower on a cold day. (Yes, I know that it’s 70 degrees in my bathroom. It’s cold outside and somehow it feels good. This doesn’t work on a 70 degree day in the summer. How long have you been reading my blog? You are looking for things to make sense? Get over that!)
There is one more change. This week my bra straps started to rutch. It was all uncomfortable. Obviously it was a message from the girls.
Let me backtrack. Since I’ve retired, my winter clothing consists of beautiful flannel shirts and bulky sweaters. You don’t need a Madonna-type bra for this kind of wardrobe so I cut the girls a break. I have relaxed stretchy things that give enough support to keep the girls from banging against my knees but they are no longer bandaged to my rib case.
It used to be that I just switched them out when I started wearing the flannels. This year the girls have been anxious. Much as I whine about the winter, they are doing the happy dance. (Perhaps it’s more like a happy bounce.)
I’ve been holding out on the wardrobe change but this week, I broke out a sweatshirt (without the stretchy bra). The girls were not happy. They considered it cheating and started to complain about fabric digging. These are the same bras that kept them perky and happy all summer.
Summer memories are in the past. Time to pull out my winter bras and appease those puppies.
Oh yes, we will have the discussion about the fire alarm thingies but they are definitely not top priority.