I have recently discovered the vocal stylings of Melanie Safka. Hers is a voice that is both rough and refreshing. She makes me wish that it stung me to sing, like it might be more satisfying that way. But alas, the only thing that pains me, currently, is the throbbing of my tired fingers. While examining my flattened fingertips, i notice my fingernails are in poor shape: sparkling purple varnish chipped and receding, shabby looking at the least, maybe even peeling, and worst of all, white. When whiteness emerges on those nails of mine, the next necessary step is to find clippers before i chew away and, not only end up with Frodo fingers, but chip my teeth (my dentist's hygienist is an alarmist). Meh, meh, meh.
I am happy, though. I'd heard the weatherman say that there would be no snow this week, let alone on Christmas and i was deeply hurt. The snow is my favorite part of winter, but there was nothing but rain all day yesterday. I felt let down. Weekly, i write to my missionary sister; a Sunday activity i'm sure Julie would approve of. In my letter to her this week, i might have gone on for a paragraph or so, concerning my utter disappointment. I wished vehemently for snow. Over... and over. And, behold! When i opened my eyes this morning, a familiar glow shone about my window, and what was there? SNOW. yesssssss.
I have a magical sister. Jealous?