Midwinter Jicker. I looked it up. It’s not a real phrase, according to Scrabble and the dictionary, but I know it’s real because 1. I’m in it and 2. Lots of other people are too. Dr. Seuss knew about it- he made it up. It’s perfect. It’s the anomaly of weather at this time of year, and this one is a doozy. I wonder if you can use “doozy” in Scrabble. It’s cold, snowy, icy, frigid, unsafe, dry, unpleasant, dark, gloomy, never-ending and, dare I say, totally jickery.
Ways to deal with the jicker: 1. drink a lot. 2. eat a lot 3. buy boots.
Splurge is another good word, like jicker and doozy. But can you technically splurge when the boots are super-duper on sale? Above you see three newly waterproofed pairs of man-boots, and two pairs of, well, more man-boots in a smallish size. They fit me like a glove-boot. I’ve been in the habit of wearing stupid things in a construction zone due to not having smart shoes to wear, so I finally decided to get some good, sturdy boots. The ones I’m wearing are cushioned, yet ventilated, steel -toed, yet light at the same time. Oxymoronic comfort. The matching pair of chestnut boots were just a coincidence. Mike had bought his three pair of bootage the weekend before at the now-closing Normans in Bad Axe. I bought mine the following weekend, not realizing it was the same boot. But how adorable- we can tramp around the church matching our little hearts out!
Of course my flannel is shot with silver glittery threads. I know you can’t see it in the photo, but you can see the black velvet collar. Looks great with caulk stuck to it.
Speaking of caulk, that’s what we’ve been spending our weekends playing with. And when I say playing, I mean getting up on a high ladder, balancing precariously, using bare fingers to stuff nasty dusty cracks in the church with a sticky, gooey and totally ornery substance while feeling like you’ve never been able to do anything right IN YOUR WHOLE PATHETIC LIFE because the caulk won’t stay put and starts dripping down onto your cute flannel shirt shot with silver thread and collared in velvet. You know, that kind of playing. Just the way to get through the Jicker.
In case that sounds like way too much fun for a Sunday morning, I forgot to mention the enclosed spaces we’re working in…
…and the scraping of cakes of crud, gobs of grime, and flakes of flotsam that will accompany the eventual (and looming) painting of the Ceiling. I capitalize it because I have a healthy respect for the Ceiling. It’s vast, and may kill us or leave us writhing, at the very least.
Luckily Santa brought us bright blue gloves to brighten the Midwinter Jicker Dark Blues. Thanks Dad! I mean Santa!
Note the difference in fit of the glove between the box photo and my actual hand. It turned out to be more efficacious to use the bare hand when stuffing toothpaste back into the tube, which is the equivalent of what we were doing with the caulk. But the gloves are uber suave, and I used them with style.
So we got through most of both sides of the church in two weekends, not by killing ourselves, but by pacing ourselves. I think we’ve finally come to the conclusion that there’s no use in damaging yourself for something that is supposed to give you joy and be a good thing. No one wants bad Ju Ju in the church. Well, it might be too late for that, considering its history, but it is an environment that, of any I’ve known, would be able to keep the Midwinter Jicker at bay. There is always some symbol of the beauty to come…
…and inspiration to keep us coming back weekend after cold, dry, dark weekend to make the church a place of beauty and inspiration for everyone.
– The White Church Gallery