Okay, I am a sloth. It was 11 o’clock before I woke up this morning. Granted, I didn’t go to bed until nearly two, but I was shocked at the time when I finally got out of bed. Fern and Gracie too were sloths as both were with me. They are now on the den couch taking their afternoon naps so they are the slothest (a new word coinage). Gracie is even snoring.

Last night we celebrated Chinese New Year, a couple of days late but it was our first opportunity. My friends and I made lanterns first then did paper cutting. I actually cut one which looked like the picture. I was amazed as I am a horrible follower of pictures. We played a game of cards then ordered Chinese food. Clare and I used our chopsticks. Tony did not. He can’t get his fingers to work. I gave him a child’s set attached together at the top one Christmas, but he has no idea where it is. We make fun of him, but he’s used to that. Not knowing what to serve for dessert, I went internet hunting and found coconut ice was a choice, and that’s what I bought. It was a perfect ending. I watched when Tony and Clare left to walk down the street to their house. They were carrying lit lanterns and wearing their round Chinese hats. I always sort of wonder what the neighbors think.

A tempest in a teapot is one of those wonderful metaphors which has disappeared. It came to mind the other night while I was waiting to fall asleep. I have no idea why it popped in, but I don’t usually analyze where my head goes. It would give me a headache. When I woke up, I thought about all those other lost metaphors, all those colorful phrases no longer used. When was the last time anyone was out of the frying pan into the fire? I remember when we used to plant a seed, reach the end of our ropes, put all our ducks in a row and draw a line in the sand.

The one metaphor I hear all too often is drinking the Kool-Aid. It doesn’t refer to Ken Kesey as I originally thought it did because of Tom Wolfe’s book, a must read for my generation back in the late 60’s and early 70’s; instead, it refers to Jonestown and means unquestioning belief in someone or something. I don’t like this metaphor. I don’t like its origin, and I cringe when I hear it used.

Let’s go back and start using metaphors like what’s good for the goose is good for the gander or you sound like a broken record; of course, if we use that one, we’ll just have to explain what a record is and what happens when it’s broken.