that I have begun myriad posts exactly like this one and you will never know them. There was one about snow. One about our lack of snow. One about the snow ending though it never began and how much I miss les neiges d’antan.
The heavy rain. I had a dream that it was thick, wet snowflakes. I still believe that the dream was real. I could almost catch them on my tongue, right while I was lying in bed.
In an hour, I will pull the loaves from the oven, let them cool enough to run a giant knife through one. I will slab butter (unsalted only please!) on the slice and look ahead into my life.
The rain is falling in sheets, back-lit by the pine boughs, the neighbor’s fence out my window. The light is beautiful, the green needles, the red, brown, and black mottled bark. Transport me Lord.
I went outside to photograph what I thought was a white crocus. It was half an eggshell dragged from the compost by some critter. What do you think? a squirrel? a crow?
[NEXT DAY. NOW COMPLETING POST. DIG IT, BABY, DIG IT]
I attended the Western Massachusetts Sacred Harp Convention for a few sunlit and glorious hours on Saturday morning. It does transport me. I’m already feeling pretty silly about my whining.
I saw 2 male cardinals in the back yard this morning, such bright red. What else is bright red around here? Not much, not that particular red.
It seemed unusual, one male cardinal chasing the other in flight.
I have had some health challenges of late and maybe that is why I haven’t been writing here. Pain and exhaustion. Pain and questions. Boring boring health problems when all I want is to do as I please at all times that I please.
I am not writing poetry much more or less than any other time, I suppose, but I am working on a manuscript for submission. I get into a great space when I am working on it, a little vague when I’m not.
I know it’s a risk to lose readers when I don’t post regularly and it pulls at me.
My cat, she is crazy. Maybe the most bizarre and hard-to-love cat we’ve ever had. Just now? She had her front paws around the leg of the kitchen table, right next to my feet. Like she was in love with the table leg, hugging it.
The other morning, she climbed partway up the wall between the kitchen and basement landing. I had never seen that before. She jumped and clung pretty high up, I’d say about 4 feet and her body lingered there for at least a few seconds. That’s a long time when you are trying to defy gravity on a vertical surface with no footholds.
The cat is stir crazy, crazy for spring. Me, I want the snow we were promised on Saturday, the snow that never came. I am not ready for spring. I am glad for the snow and cold we’ve gotten even if I DO NOT LIKE the overcast skies day after day. I could do with more snow.
I think about the ocean a lot. I miss it. A winter ocean; a summer ocean; a tropical ocean; Ipswich, Cape Cod, my great loves. Even though I love the winter when it’s sunny and cold and when we get a lot of snow, I always love the ocean.
We were in Rockport, Mass last weekend, right on the ocean, but it was already nighttime and dark out and we could not see it. By morning, we got caught in a massive blizzard and had to hightail it west so we would not get stranded on Cape Ann.
I am the only one in the family who consistently loves the cat. She is a pain in the ass, always attacking humans when she wants to be fed. But she knows. She knows I’m the one who feeds her. So she hangs around me.
I saw the cardinals and I hope the cat will not get one come spring. This cat has never brought me a bird. Only mice and chipmunks. She is a keen attacker of human flesh (exposed feet, tender thighs) but maybe not a great hunter.
My Ohio friends say snow snow snow, but I don’t think it will come our way. I’ve been telling you this for a while now. I can believe in the Solstice and the return of the light, but I can’t believe in snow.
I looked up a recent post and an image had disappeared from it. Was it my own photo or a photo from the web? I don’t know, but I’ll add something back.
I started watching Downton Abbey and I like it a lot. I am in love with all of the good characters; and though I see my humanity in each, I hate all the bad ones.
When I was growing up and we spent Christmas in Canada with our very best family friends, we did celebrate Boxing Day. No one in the US had heard of Boxing Day yet.
We would walk and walk on their 50 acres, we would drink and eat and play games and laze about the house. This was my Christmas for many years after the age of 7.
I am going to submit some more poems starting this week including at least one manuscript. I’ve been on hiatus but the rejections still trickle in. The one online poetry journal that accepted a poem seems to be out-of-commission, but I can’t know for sure until I hear something further. It’s been a couple of months since my submission was accepted and now, POOF!, even their website lies fallow….
After this post, I will post a poem in a separate post. Until then (in a few minutes!), please enjoy this musical interlude:
This is from Saturday night’s concert in Montague.
I suppose I never was a puppies and unicorns kind of girl, but I do remember writing my first name together with the last names of certain crushes when I was in school. Okay, not only grade school. High school. Maybe even college.
Hearts and flowers are okay. I like hearts and flowers.
My latest love is one like the red number up there.
Chez nous, I am the Queen of the Thermostat. In the morning, I set it to 68-69 degrees. This heats the house to about 65 degrees. The furnace guys told me that it is calibrated in such a way that it will always heat the house to around 4 degrees lower than where I set the temperature. We still have an “old-fashioned” dial thermostat, not a fancy digital one. When we converted the house from electric baseboard heat (SO INEFFICIENT AND HIDEOUS!) to natural gas, central heat 12 years ago, we were trying to save a buck. It’s okay; I don’t need no fancy beans and ketchup.*
At night, before I get into bed, I turn the thermostat to about 65. This puts us at 61 degrees at night. Sometimes, I am too wimpy and I leave it so it’s only 62 or 63. But 62 or 63 is too warm and by the middle of the night, I am gasping for cool air and uncovering layers of down and wool.
I have recently discovered our hot water bottle. Nightly, I fill this little red puppy with hot water from the kitchen tap and I am good to go. Why didn’t I start doing this four years ago when I first began to have cold feet all winter long? I do not know. But I am addicted. But in a good way. A healthy way. Except for all of the hot water I am using. But it probably saves on furnace heat. Oh me, oh my, the choices a privileged American girl must make.
You may wonder if I would like something fancier than my red rubber hot water bottle; it is close to Christmas after all.
Something like this, mayhaps?
No, no. I am strong enough to resist the charms of David Hasselhoff and I would NOT like to have his likeness in my bed.
What about one of those knitted covers?
NO! I actually like the feel of the rubber on my feet.** I like to roll the bottle around until it is just right and I suspect that a cover would interfere with my ability to manipulate the bottle pedially (the theoretical adverbial form of the word pedial). I think it might also make it too warm under the covers.
There is one small problem though. It rains in October. It rains in November. It rains all the way throughout December.
I wish this were the only version of White Christmas I had ever heard. Let us hope: from your mouth to God’s ears, Otis Redding; from your mouth to God’s ears.
I’ve got a terrible cold, one which I valiantly fought for weeks but to which I finally succumbed 4 days ago, ugh.
I’m grateful for the SNOW STORM we got last night—our first of the winter. I could gas on about the lack of snow in New England and crab about the crazy too-early storm in October, but I’m not gonna. The kids had a snow day so I was able to crawl back to bed at about 7:30 this morning after not having to do my usual SAHM stuff. I slept until 11 am. I WENT TO ELEVEN and that was nice.
This week is all about preparations for the Amherst Regional High School musical for which Violet sewed costumes, as well as for the annual Viennese Waltz at Annie’s school this Saturday. The girls have been trying on their fabulous frocks and have been helping each other with hair and make-up and hats and gloves. I tried on my own frock and you know, I didn’t feel too bad about it (especially due to the butt- and thigh-tightening hose, made by Spanx, that I purchased at Target. This was a first for me and I thought I’d hate them, but they are not tight or uncomfortable at all, so my fears were unfounded). Tomorrow night we will see Guys and Dolls (so excited) and Saturday night, we’ll be working shifts, eating Viennese-type desserts, and dancing ’til our butts fall off and in my case, due to actual heels (very rare), possible blisters or at least foot discomfort until the last 45 minutes when the music shifts from live piano and violin to a total funk meltdown in which all of the moms kick off their shoes and dance like mad, completely ignoring their embarrassed teens, who honestly are having such a good time of their own that they forget to notice after the first 5 minutes or so.
birthday hat
the amazing Stubby Kaye as Nicely Nicely, singing the mock gospel song Sit Down You’re Rocking the Boat from the movie version of “Guys and Dolls”
I miss that kind of singing–the pipes, the presence, the physical and vocal control. Glory Be!
Before you think I don’t wish us all well for the new year,
★ ★ ★ Happy New Year!!! ★ ★ ★
Also, in case you think I’m in some sort of seasonal crappy state, like last year at this time, here is a dashing couple to put those fears to rest:
I have been uninspired of late. Should I stop blogging (for now)? Was this just an enjoyable one-year experiment? Do I really want to continue Music Monday on a regular basis? What about posting poetry? Will I continue to participate in Poetry Jam? Do I have anything that needs to be said or is it just more ether? Should I continue to link [some of] my blog posts to Facebook?
I am not one for resolutions per se. Two years ago I started taking regular yoga classes. This had been something I’d desired for YEARS. I have done a little bit of yoga my whole life and finally, in December of 2008, I knew I could commit to regular classes. Last year, I decided to start this blog. I didn’t make a resolution; I was simply ready. I do like the idea of a new start, but I don’t like to box myself in. As an alcoholic, rigidity tends to make me rebel; I try not to set myself up for failure (as if I can always see where I’m going–wouldn’t that be nice). Rather, I like to give myself the best chance of success. That can be tricky to discern, but I do okay.
I am already making some of the changes I want for 2012. Nothing difficult or life-altering, just small things that need attending to and to which I can attend because my children need it, our finances need it, I need it, my house needs it, &c. (HA! The first time I’ve used an ampersand with a c on the end on my blog, maybe even the first ampersand on my blog. I promise not to do it again for at least a day).
For today, a video of Tim Eriksen from a couple of years back. If you read the notes below the video on youtube, he gives a little background on the song. It is one of my favorite Sacred Harp songs, one which I can actually lead (not always so easy with more complex songs). I do love the sound of the bajo sexto, but could do without the spinning around of the camera. Still, I hope you enjoy this. It was either this or my kids and I were going to sing Sacred Harp #162 for you via the Mac. But the light is SO bad in my kitchen and my face so sunken. I wouldn’t have chatted, though, only the song. Maybe next year….
Obviously, it was a lot colder a year ago this time of year, though it’s predicted to go into the single digits overnight this week, lots of low 20s and wind in the day.
Today, I was driving down my little street and the wind was whipping the leaves around. It seemed to be snowing broken leaves, but then, I saw real snow. The snow lifted up from the ground, I swear it wasn’t falling. It lasted all of 2 minutes.
No matter what happens, I’ve been happy to blog. Now I wait for snow and the return of the light which is happening some days. Other times, it seems so strangely overcast and blustery that I can’t tell what season I’m in, where I live, when the days will change.
Look, I can tell that you are not convinced about my well-wishes. Time for another New Year’s photo to let you know I’m serious:
If they can do it, why can’t I? I could immerse myself in non-alcoholic bubbly, right?
(here is the link to this image: 
twinklysparkles 
