what it's time for is up to you--

Saturday, December 29


It's been snowing for days.  Yesterday, there was a sunny break and we went into town, ordered large lattes and poked around in bookstores and a bakery while the car was being serviced.  The men in town all seemed preoccupied with shoveling snow from walks and driveways.  Each seemed to be thinking this was the first of a reoccurring winter chore.  

There has been a lot of snow this early in the season, even for New York state.  Christmas Day when I arrived, was cold and clear with thin clumps of snow on the ground, easily managed.  Today, the snow is four days old, several layers added totaling  eight or nine inches.  The 4 wheel-drive car is stuck halfway up the steep road that leads to the house.  A result of more driver error that vehicle power.  It will be dug out tomorrow by a local with a truck and a snow plow, earning extra money to pay off Christmas bills.  Walking is a chore for adults, but hysterical fun for the kids who leap and pretend to fall into banks of snow.  Kids who stand face tilted up to the sky, catching snow flakes on their cheeks, while chomping on icicles clenched in their insulated gloves.  Snow is made for kids, our appreciation wains as responsible adults. 

I think of May Sarton and her writings of long, frigid winters on the Maine coast.  She loved each season and appreciated the periods of dormancy for her much beloved gardens.  I briefly wish I were at home where I could pull down a copy of Journal of a Solitude or The House by the Sea from my bookshelf.  I wonder of the sanity of spending the winter holiday break in New York.  It is mid-50's at home.  Yet, there is a retreat feeling of being temporarily snowed in.  I should put the time to use.

The house is quiet in the evenings, perfect time for writing.  I take a cup of hot tea with lemon and ginger to bed with me.  It's hard to get the laptop positioned in bed over the double down quilts.  My arms get cold if left outside the covers for too long.  I try alternating left, then right, making it impossible to type.  I consider pen and pad, but sleep seems the better alternative.  

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