Archive for the ‘seasons’ Category


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There is a man outside snow-blowing China. At least that’s what it sounds like as he’s certainly gone over his allotted snow-blowing time. We got 5 inches buddy, use a shovel, it might be good for you. I find it funny that people around here have snow-blowers. It really doesn’t snow THAT much. I mean we might get one big storm in the winter, but otherwise it’s dust. You could blow it off the sidewalk! (I used an exclamation point…dammit)

I’m blaming my distraction on him – totally on him. I won’t tell him that I’d been sitting here for an hour staring at my poem trying to bridge it, weave it, make the damn thing work and just when I thought I’d opened the door to let my mind step into the words, something pulled me out again: the taste of my coffee, the apps I’m downloading on my stupid ipod that for some reason I brought into the room with me. I’m playing my mom in “words with friends” – basically scrabble, but if I say that they’ll get sued – and she’s kicking my ass so far.

The snow last night was beautiful and silent. The drop of tiny crystals that lit up the dark. I love how snow absorbs whatever light it can and as it falls and collects (this guys is killing me – I think he’s moved on to plowing Russia). Maybe I’ll just shovel snow instead.

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Yesterday was 55 degrees. Today it’s 50. What is it about sunshine, about warm weather that changes people so? People roll down their windows, take their coats off, become more open. I saw a girl with her hands through her sun roof, her fingers wiggling like worms coming out of hibernation. And then I saw a woman with her dog in the back seat and he was chewing on the longest stick – it went all the way to the back window and his black mouth was chomping away, perfectly content. I thought ‘That is love.’ Letting your dog take his stick in the car with him to chew it all up in the back seat. Love comes out in the warmth, in the sun.

This morning we put the hammock up for the day and swung my friend’s kids back and forth and back. We dug for worms and couldn’t find any brave enough to face the winter. BUT IT’S WARM TODAY! WHERE ARE YOU, WORMS?

We sang at the top of our lungs and danced around the house in our pajamas and wore strange hats. And their mom slept in the guest bed last night – cozy new flannel sheets and tons of blankets and her own sanctuary, she didn’t even mind the street noise outside because she slept a straight 10 hours and didn’t wake up once. She hasn’t slept a straight 10 hours in 2 or 3 years with the kids running back and forth between beds.

The bunnies were out. We had coffee and French Toast with sourdough bread because that’s the only way to make it – sourdough and cinnamon. We sat around the wobbly dinning room table and C- said “I’ve heard of an old wives tale that says whatever you spent new year’s day doing, you’ll do for the rest of the year.”

I said, hmmm I cleaned a lot. That sounds about right. And I guess I’d have to spent the rest of the year with you guys. God, what a draaaaaag. wink wink. What a drag.

And I found boots today! My size and everything and 60% off. Oh the places they’ll take me with my poet boots not far behind. They’ll take me to pick up Pat tonight at the airport and I’ll feel content for now with my family back. Which is more than enough. Much more.

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This morning I opened the door and smelled winter’s smoke. The houses in a thaw. The steam rising from the roofs. The white. The pink of morning. Birds chipped away at the cold with their voices and for a brief moment I felt inside me – Spring.

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Slow down

It’s snowing outside, but I can’t see it. I’m not moving. We are supposed to get 11 to 16 inches, the most snow we’ve gotten all winter so far. All I hear are the wet swish of tires on the road, the continual grind of car engines, the hum of the fan in my room. When it snows it’s always so quiet, but not tonight. Tonight the world isn’t stopping to watch it all fall.

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I went around to about 5 bazillion stores today trying to find a nice jacket for a little boy. You’d think in the middle of winter, in a wintry place where the frost laces the roof tops every morning, finding a jacket wouldn’t be such an endeavor. I went to the mall, weaved in and out of slow moving people, passed a woman wearing cookie monster’s feet – I’m not kidding, huge, fluffy blue shoes that were double the size of her and up to her knees. I’m not sure who told her those were OK. While I was driving to the mall I also passed a man (or a woman who knows) dressed as a Taco Bell taco. It’s 30 degrees out. Times must be tight.
If you are thinking about going out shopping right now – don’t. People stop in the middle of the street, don’t use their blinkers, park in handicapped spaces or spaces not at all. Children are screaming around the perfume¬†aisles¬†playing marco polo in Spanish while their mother’s don’t care to tell them about inside voices. And there are no winter coats. I know if I asked, the sales people would say – we are clearing inventory out for Spring. Jackets aren’t in season anymore. And I’d tell them – if we lived in California or Florida or someplace that grows oranges or citrus or surfers or beach bodies, I might believe you. But look outside. It’s 30 degrees and the tacos are freezing their shells off and women are running around in furry feet boots and all I want is a jacket that’s not puffy and vinyl with giant Spiderman webs on it. What happen to the nice peacoats of the world?

On a happy note, I went to our fancy grocery store with the fancy organic section (not that I can afford organic), but I like to imagine I could, but I only went to find loose leaf tea for my boyfriend’s mom. And I lingered there for a half hour, going over the big tins, the ground leaves and peppermint, dried flowers and herbs daydreaming about how lovely it would be to enjoy the small things in the world. To sit down with a cup of tea, not prepackaged, but to actually sit and smell and drink something that takes time to steep.

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