FROZEN UNDERWEAR

Not, as you probably think, the garments that Elsa wears in that movie, but what an Eskimo or other mythical polar creature might wear in the Yukon when it gets to let's say forty eight degrees Fahrenheit or below, and partly cloudy with a slight breeze, such as in San Francisco right now. I can hear things tinkling when I move.

Please imagine something with fangs grumbling.
A disconsolate and cold Dutchman.
Who was outside smoking.

There are times when I can really understand the bears. Who store up fat in Autumn then spend all of winter getting up late or not at all. Probably thoroughly enjoying their bed with the down comforter, woolen blanket, cotton knit blanket, synthetic blend blanket, pillows, and small creatures perched on top of the long pile of reference books on the left side.
Don't wake me up till it's at least six weeks later.
And light longer outside.

Not all bears smoke pipes, have lunch in Chinatown, and sip hot Hong Kong milk tea. And all in all it's been a busy day, in which I got a lot accomplished. Even though I totally forgot that the hospital and pharmacy would not be open for regular business because it's a holiday. Picked up my refills after having lunch, upgraded my old geezer discount travel card over on Stockton Street, purchased veggies for the elderly Indonesian Chinese woman downstairs, plus fried crab flavoured potato chips for my apartment mate and green stuff for both of us as well as some Japanese white peach pudding buns (which if they taste weird I'll happily take to work), dried fish, and another cup of Hong Kong milk tea with a pastry. Spoke Cantonese mostly, used Mandarin once, and English once.

Swore under my breath several times in multiple languages. Chinatown was chock-full of outsiders gawking, ogling, and probably poking the locals to see if they'd squawk. At one point while I was having my tea the bakery had over twenty non-Chinese at the counter saying "what's that" and asking what was in it. The tables were nearly empty, probably because regulars didn't wish to wade through a horde of Huns sacking Rome.

The lunch place, being a chachanteng on a side street, and the grocery store where the interesting snackies were purchased, were not crowded at all. I'm hoping that the place where I intend to go tomorrow will be relatively free of the Vikings raiding Lindisfarne.
I don't want to deal with dead monks and burning libraries while having dumplings.



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