From X-Ray Day to the one I won’t touch, there’s lots to celebrate

I see that Better Conversation Week ran at the back end of November.  Good thinking.  If I give the locals several weeks to cool down from their week of angst, they’ll be limbered up and ready for some “better conversation.”  And one day, pigs will fly.  A girl can hope, though, can’t she?  That, and she can prep some flip charts, taking one more crack at the basics.  “Fellas,” she’ll say, “’good,’ ‘nice,’ and ‘fine’ aren’t adjectives, and grunting doesn’t count.”  Proving once again that in some foolish hearts, hope still springs eternal.  So I may be foolishly optimistic, but I do know better than to participate in the festivities that were held on the 8th.  Are you kidding?  As the mother of four sons, I wouldn’t touch Cook Something Bold and Pungent Day with a 10-foot pole – or a Pampered Chef spatula.  Not even with a sturdy Israeli gas mask on hand.  Nuh-uh.  No way.  That’s because what you cook is what you’ll get.  You know, sowing and reaping and all that?  The repercussions may be delayed, but they are certain.  And right there, without even knowing it, I was observing Use Your Common Sense Day. Finally.  An observance I didn’t miss for once, even if it was strictly self-defense.  November also offers many opportunities to be aware of this, that, and the other thing.  For instance, it’s National Marrow Awareness Month.  Were you aware of this?  Me, either.  I mean, I know it’s there, but I can’t claim a daily awareness of my marrow.  Over here, Marrow Awareness Month has been crowded out by Boot Awareness Month.  I’m short a pair.  Mr. Schrock, being keenly aware of this, feels strongly that I need some, and we’re disagreeing on what kind.  The difference boils down to a boy-girl thing.  Oh, and a winter-lover against a not-so-much.  He revels in all things winter, including blizzards, arctic temps, frozen extremities, and tromping around in the snow.  On purpose.  I’m a reveler, too.  I’d just rather do it indoors.  No blizzards, no arctic temps, no frozen extremities, and no tromping around in the snow on purpose.  Tromper that he is, he’s thinking chunky “boot” boots that weigh 10 pounds each and have tractor treads on the bottom, the kind you use to ski in Aspen or to hike the Himalayas.  I’m thinking a cute, not-20-pound, what-everyone-else-is-wearing pair that isn’t really meant for skiing in Aspen or hiking the Himalayas.  I’m sure we’ll figure this out.  Once we do, maybe we’ll start a new Day of Awareness.  He can celebrate (wahoo!) by hiking outdoors and building a snowman, and I’ll rejoice indoors (yippee!) as I look at my new boots, happily aware that I can feel all my fingers and toes.  Sounds like common sense to me.