Dear Mr. Frost:
You do create a lovely landscape. There is something almost magical about watching the sun hit your handiwork on the hills and trees and rooftops of my neighborhood. Brilliant! And the patterns you create on my garage windows? Nothing short of stupendous. Really. Each pane is a little miracle. Still, despite the beauty you create, I have this to say to you: Hit the road, Jack! (And don't you come back no more. . .)
Dear Ryka Shoe Company:
We've had a long relationship, you and I. Oh, I know it's been a bit rocky for the last two years -- but for the previous ten years, we were constant companions. How I loved your old studio dance shoes! The support was perfect for my every leap and spin. The quality was excellent, and I could count on getting 6 solid months of wear out of each pair. And the fit? Why, Cinderella's glass slipper comes to mind. Sure, your shoes weren't particularly attractive in a "fashion forward" kind of way, but who cared? You were so consistently perfect for so long. But then . . . you changed! First, your quality slipped. Odd seams were splitting. Soles cracked. Problems you never used to have. And then, well . . . your standard studio shoes disappeared completely . . . and you replaced them with pretty faces. Suddenly, you were all about being "on trend," playing with colors and patterns and such -- like you were Nike or something. I didn't want hot teal shoes that fell apart and made my knees hurt. I wanted my plain, old, ugly, black studio shoes! I'll admit it . . . I started looking around. I had flings with Capezio and New Balance. Where did it get me? Metatarsal issues and a flare-up of my Achilles tendinitis. So I'm back. But I'm still not happy with you. At all.
Dear Jenny and JoJo:
I know you're used to a walk every morning when I return from the gym. But really, we can't go right now. Because the temperature is -15ºF before the wind chill. Too cold. Just too friggin' cold. You'll have to trust me. STOP LOOKING AT ME WITH THE SAD DOG EYES. Maybe next week. . . For today, I'll make it up to you by giving you a ride in the car.
Dear Garden Buddha:
I haven't forgotten you. Please continue to hold down the fort until the thaw comes.
Happy Friday! (Stay warm.)