From the Frying Pan into the Icebox


The furnace went on overnight and this morning for the first time since last spring. Happy 1st October.

The anticipated event brought the annual unraveling of the cold-weather quilt from the closet yesterday, to be comfortably utilized until next spring.

Under it, I slept so well for the first time since putting the comforter away, only awakening once in the middle of the night for nature’s call. From June through September, constant tossing and turning, awakening every hour was the rule. No wonder I was such a grump during my waking hours. Now I’ll have to find another excuse.

The first week of this new month, theoretically on the calendar, is a short one: just one day. Regardless, I feel obligated to post something to fulfill my self-imposed regimen for writing an entry at least once weekly, even though a diatribe had already been penned—or keyboarded—during the middle of this past workweek.

The weather as of late, at least for the past four days, has been rainy in the Philadelphia area. Hiking in the woods for wildlife photography and autumn photos has been nonexistent for me.

Looking for things to do indoors, I’ve already tortured my followers on Social Media, and  at the end of Wednesday’s post with the latest Cover Your Ears.

My music must be exceptionally bad, for seldom does anyone comment about it. Same goes for my entries on WordPress or other outlets, which shouldn’t really matter. I have fun doing it and think it’s great. It helps maintain my sanity. That’s the main thing, but this wannabe musician or armchair philosopher would appreciate any feedback for my efforts, good or bad.

OK, enough whining done already for this short week. On the flip side, the cooler temps are a welcoming event after the brutal summer we went through. Pulling out the sweatshirts, sweaters and hoodies from storage, having to wear them again is a joy, instead of profusely sweating immediately upon walking out the front door.

Halloween is at the end of this month already. Fright Night, or watching the election returns, is five weeks away, followed by Thanksgiving and the year-end holidays. Don’t forget snow, lots of it in this pessimist’s humble prognostication, considering the extremes of the past season.

Then the time seems to crawl by ever so slowly until springtime, during which another one of my hair-brain predictions calls for exceptionally cold temps as well. Perhaps the reason why I forecast such gloom is, if it happens, I won’t be disappointed or surprised, giving me more fuel to feed the weekly tirade’s fire, warming my heart as it does for all my readers (insert eye-roll here).

Should the augured doom not occur is better yet, making it much more delightful for me. Winter is my least favorite season, if you haven’t gathered that by now; and we were spared from a bad one last time around. I think we’re due for a doozie.

The furnace just came on again. It’s 63F/17C and overcast outside. The dreaded food-shopping awaits to be done on this damp day, but might wait until tomorrow, for which rain is forecast again.

Looks like Chef Boyardee is providing dinner later. Nay, I’ll call out for a gyro and have it delivered.

Thanks, as always, for your continued support.

About Mike Slickster

As an early retiree with an honorary doctorate degree from the proverbial "School of Hard Knocks," this upcoming author with a lot of free time on his hands utilizes his expansive repertoire for humorous yet tragic, wildly creative writing that contains years of imaginative fantasy, pure nonsense, classic slapstick, extreme happiness and searing heartbreak; gathered by a wealth of personal experiences throughout his thrilling—sometimes mundane or unusually horrid—free-spirited, rock-'n'-roller-coaster ride around our beloved Planet Earth. Mike Slickster's illustrious quest continues, living now in Act Three of his present incarnation, quite a bit on the cutting edge of profundity and philosophical merriment as seen through his colorful characters, most notably evident in the amusing Thirty Days Across the Big Pond series, all of which can be found at
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3 Responses to From the Frying Pan into the Icebox

  1. As an update, I ordered Chinese food. Got enough left for a midnight snack.

  2. shirleyann21 says:

    It’s funny how like the animals October brings out our urges to hibernate and prepare for the winter. For others the urge to migrate becomes very strong and whilst I’ve been quiet for a while have been labouring away in the background dealing with changes of all kinds. Friends are like stars – you don’t always see them but they are there …. Happy October

  3. Good to hear from you, Shirley Ann. I sincerely hope you’ve resolved your bumps in the road. Thanks for commenting and I’ll always treasure your friendship.

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