Baby you can drive my car

OK, stop refreshing the E Online Oscars page hoping that the live red carpet feed will start and read this instead.

It's blustery as the dickens here in Edinburgh. As I type this I'm looking out the window at a woman desperately trying to hold her umbrella in a way so that it doesn't flip inside out. Hey lady, it's never going to work! Accept defeat, bin that brolly and embrace the icy breeze. Quit fretting over that £2 parasol, put your hood up and sprint!

The cold weather dries out my skin twice over. First, the lack of air moisture sucks the life out of them. Then all those hot showers I'm forced to take to warm up only exacerbates things. My hands are so dehydrated that they don't even feel like mine anymore. Touching one set of fingers with the other feels like petting a corpse. GAWD, these hands are parched! PARCHED.

But that's not what I came here to discuss.

Today I'd like to talk about driverless cars.

Apparently they'll be here before we know it, and I say, bring them on! Less traffic. Fewer car crashes. Not so much pollution. Also, imagine being able to watch last night's episode of RHOBH during your commute to work. The dream!

Image via Mark Doliner via Wikimedia Commons

Need convincing? Listen to this piece of audio from back in 2009 when I damned near almost fell asleep at the wheel. I could have seriously used a driverless car back then. Also, after listening to this, it's amazing that there was ever a time when I didn't know the term "vocal fry".



But what about road trips? What about going where the wind blows? What about the joys of navigating the wide open highway, thumbs tapping on the steering wheel to a sweet country jam on the FM radio?

I don't think we'll lose that. In fact, road trips will become even more romantic and aspirational in an era of driverless cars. So accustomed to sitting in our vroom-vroom-robot-pods, old school human-driven cars will be super classy and vintage. Sure, our driving skills will be hellza rusty, but that doesn't matter out on those empty country freeways.

Oh my god my HANDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I must go get the lotion.

Happy trails,
Margaret

P.S. In the UK they don't say "lotion". They say "moisturiser".

Polar and Naked Mole Rat

I have two hot water bottles. I know, I know. I'm not usually one to brag, but hot water bottles actually aren't that expensive! And boy do they do a great job of keeping you warm in the freezing Scottish winter.

One sits in a white, faux fur case. I call that one Polar.

The other is blue, with a geometric pattern on its back. That one doesn't have a case, so I call it Naked Mole Rat.

They make a darling pair.

Polar, with his coat of fur, isn't as hot at first, but he stays warm longer. NMR is piping right after you fill him, but he cools down quickly.

My babies. My GORGEOUS BABIES!

Hot water bottle tips

• Always use boiling water out of the kettle. Yes, this will cause the water bottle to eventually melt and leak. But hot water from the tap simply isn't scalding enough. 

• Put the hot water bottle under your covers 30 minutes before you plan to get in bed. That way your sheets will be nice and toasty for you at bedtime. 

• After pouring the boiling water down the neck of the hot water bottle, squeeze it at the shoulders so that it's air-tight around the waterline before you screw the cap back in. This makes the hot water bottle nice and squidgy. If you don't get all the air out, it will feel hard and bloated when you go to cuddle it. 

• In the middle of the night, when you realise it's gone cold, throw it out of bed like an old sock. It's no good to you anymore and it's taking up precious bed space. Girl bye! 

Goodnight,
Margaret

Brrrrrr! It's blog in here...

DON'T SAY A THING.

I have to live with the guilt, and that should be good enough for you. Let's just look beyond this with hope and enthusiasm for a bloggerific future.

Well, it's officially cold here in Edinburgh. Actually, it has been cold for weeks now but only recently have people stopped fighting it. The usually fashionable inhabitants of this magical town have swapped their TopShop trenches for long, tubular, down jackets that look like giant vinyl oven mitts with head and arm holes. Hail, freezing rain, and pathetic wet snow (maybe?) pelt the cobblestones with incredible, wind-powered velocity.

In Seattle, on the day after a storm, the streets are littered with fallen branches and capsized garbage cans. Here in Edinburgh it's deformed umbrellas and collapsed postcard stands.

OK, now that I've gotten past the awkward haven't-blogged-in-ages elephant in the room with a little small talk about the weather (Always a good "ice breaker." HAHAHA), let's get down to the real juicy biznass.

My weekend:

MARY came from Paris for a Thanksgiving feast! She brought along some real French baguettes, for which I am very very thankful. Also on the menu...WHEAT THINS. My favorite cousin (Yes, you read that right. It's a rolling application process though, so all you cousins out there still have a chance to fill the position) found the delicious, American, crackers at a shop in France and bought them along in true Padden Fam fashion. Char and William made a pumpkin pie. It was square, but it was the best p-pie I've ever tasted. Hands down. So good. Ha- I am emailing her right now and telling her to make another one.

Mary and I made rice krispie treats for the gang. They called them "rice krispie cakes", which was cute. We didn't correct them. We just smiled and nodded sweetly while exchanging knowing glances with each other.

Char, Mary and I climbed up the Sir Walter Scott monument for some fantastic, foggy, Edinburgh views. Check out the picture of me on the stairs- one of the best pics I've ever taken!!

On the Sunday that Mary had to leave we enjoyed a quick romp around the Edinburgh Castle. It was SO WINDY and FREEZING. But fun.

Twas a grand weekend. Loverboy really had it right when they concluded that "everybody's working for the weekend." Truer words have never been spoken. Now that it's over and another daunting week stretches out before me, knowledge of the absolute, certain existence of an upcoming Saturday/Sunday combo is what gets me through. Huzzah!

Wow, it's been a while and I forgot how exhausting this is. Allow me to leave you with that brief blog and a promise to update more frequently as the goose gets fatter and the old man's hat more penny-filled.

Beannachd leat,

Margaret

Guten Tag

Today was about as perfect as a non-cyprus, freezing cold, have-to-go-to-school, spokane weekday can get. 

I didn't have to work so I was able to watch the inauguration this morning. I set my alarm for 7, got out of bed slowly and wandered down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and some oatmeal. I used the extra boiling water from the kettle for my hot water bottle, which I held onto in one hand at the very tip top so it wouldn't burn me. In the other hand I held my mug of tea and my mug of oatmeal (I only eat out of bowls and mugs. Never plates- they don't keep food hot enough and they increase the likelihood of horrendous utensil scraping noises). Then I bundled up in a couple of fleece blankets in Barbie's bed (she was at the bagel shop working and I don't have a TV in my room), stretched my legs out, cracked my toes and relished in the relaxation of continuous news broadcasting. 

Next time I am feeling stressed, I should turn on CNN and zone out as the reporters earn their living by beating a dead horse, describing it in historic terms, rephrasing it for those just tuning in, holding a panel discussion on it, and airing replays of it over and over and over. There's something so soothing about 24 hour news channels. 

Obama's speech was good. Michelle's dress was classy. The kids were super cute. And the crowd was miraculous. So so so many people, all gathered in the cold to see the fruits of their vote and share in such instant change- from Bush to Obama. You couldn't find a better example of change than that. 

After the speech and about another hour of dead-horse-beating by the news anchors, my stomach had a warm, red splotch from the hot water bottle and my legs were falling asleep so I figured I'd better get up and move around. Clare and I went to our aerobics and yoga classes. Then Martha and I went to "do hood rat stuff", which was difficult because of the cold and turned into buying tea at Tesoro, chit-chatting with Isabel at her house and wandering the aisles of Safeway. 

And the best is yet to come! The Real Housewives of Orange County starts in ten minutes!!

May the force be with you, 

Madge