Hazy Shades

The motherfucking time change never plays nicely with my already dicey sleep. Last night was no different. Yes, I eventually got into the très exclusive Lullaby Land (chichi club and shit) but it took way more effort than anticipated. Around midnight, I came downstairs, figuring a strong hot toddy would do the trick. Oopsie, I’d left my Jamo over at Jen and Oni’s place. That’s where most of my high calorie temptations live. So, I went back to deep breathing exercises and other random, feeble efforts to calm my fears.

Fears? You know, the uszh.

• Given the radical, bullshit misogyny which infects our entire culture – is it possible to ever elect a woman president?
• Will Mueller’s investigation yield yummy jail time for any of the Trump Crime Cartel or will they skate like myriad rich white criminals before them?
• Will Jussie Smollet get more jail time than 45’s criminal campaign chair, the big time weasel, traitor and fraudster Manafort?

And then there’re my more personal worries such as:

• Will I EVAH lose these final 15 pounds?
• Can I get laundry, haircut, workouts and other assorted errands done before I leave Wednesday for my long weekend with Ten in Oregon? (WHY am I trying to sleep when I could be getting shit done!?)
• How’s Daddy? Any better? Is he adjusting to life in his new nursing facility? I MUST see him again SOON!

Unsurprisingly, I feel the need to slip back into that glorious, quiet, calming geothermal lagoon in Iceland. There are other places to enjoy a float or even just a chill sit, in wonderfully warm waters while snow shivers down on my head.

Landmannalaugar – the "Farmer's Hot Bathing Pool” – sounds ideal. It’s not a formal, sanitized-for-your-protection deal but a stream with both cold and hot currents. VERY free range hippy-dippy!

Grjótagjá, Mývatn is a purportedly claustrophobia inducing cave with pool. The temps are unstable though – given to surges of human boiling heat – so swimming’s not permitted. Apparently it’s magnificently gorgeous and, quite possibly, worth the battle with my wickedly strong fear of enclosed spaces. Hmmm.

Grettislaug, in the North, is small but looks like a GREAT place to visit while touring. Apparently there’s a grand view of the rock island Drangey. There’s a cool Saga concerning the man, Grettir, for whom this place is named which includes an amusing uh-huh, some fears are as old as time tale. I'm inspired to read more Sagas now. Conveniently, they’re on line (AND downloadable!) at the Icelandic Saga Database.

This means I don’t need to pack a book for my upcoming trip to Oregon. YEA, one less thing to lug. Oh but let’s get real. After checking in and getting through security, I’m gonna have time on my hands and Hudson Booksellers emits an unignorable tractor beam.

I’d love to check these other geothermal pools out BUT we’d need to rent a car, on top of the other substantial expenses of Icelandic travel. Merde, skít and Scheiße!

Some day.

Hazy Shade of Winter – Simon and Garfunkel