Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Wrestle the Butterflies
I don't think either of you two readers live here in Florida, but if you did, you would know that one thing you need (unless you are lucky enough to be able to garage your car all the time) is a reflective sunshield for your car's windshield. A car parked in the Florida sun absorbs about as much heat as a moderately-sized desalinization plant, but without water to desalinate. I heard on the radio that the temperature inside a parked car gets to eleventy-gazillion degrees. I'm not making this up. But reflective shields in the windshield hold the temperature down by, like, I dunno, twelve, maybe thirteen degrees. At least. And that makes a difference.
So Judi and I were in Target (the store) a week or so ago, and I spotted a reflective pair of windshield screens sporting...
In case you haven't been reading this blog lately, butterflies are Judi's new
So that brings us to this past weekend. We pulled into a parking spot prior to getting some lunch. You should understand that the new butterfly shields collapse into an amazingly compact package, but only after you execute a procedure that resembles the mating dance of the loon. It's a trial. So Judi got out a pair of scissors and began clipping coupons. I got out the collapsed reflective shields to unfold them and put them in the windshield.
"I figured I could get this done," said Judi, coupon-clipping, "while you wrestle the butterflies."
Wrestle the butterflies?
Of course it caught my imagination immediately. Wrestle the butterflies. It sounds sort of Zen-like, or Buddhist maybe. I don't know what it means, but I know I will figure out a way to use it that gives it meaning. Wrestle the butterflies....
On another word-related note, Judi left her gadget that exfoliates her feet in my car because, as she said, "When I'm in your car I'm almost always sandalfooted."
Sandalfooted.... Don't you love the way that sounds?