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“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature— the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”

February 6, 2011

The weather is my excuse today. It is in the 40’s, and I just had to take a long ride with my window open. As I was driving, I saw lots of people out walking. It feels like a spring day. Last night was also warm, in the 40’s, and we had a thunderstorm with such lightening it lit up the sky. The rain poured then slowed down and hung around for a while.

The older we get the more we appreciate the change in seasons. When I was little, I didn’t care much for any season except summer, and that had to do with no school. I didn’t care that while I was out playing every day the gardens were filled with color or that the air smelled of freshly cut grass. It was much the same with spring. I was glad to be rid of the pounds of clothes I had to wear all winter, and I was thrilled to ride my bike again. I was a kid so involved with life on a different level that I didn’t notice the buds on the trees or the green shoots of daffodils appearing in the gardens. Fall was different. It was a brilliance of color, and I noticed. Every day I walked to school under a canopy of yellow. The smell of burning leaves stays with me still. Winter was my least favorite season. I liked the sledding and all, but most days after school we were stuck inside because of the cold and the early night.

I do complain about the weather now, and winter is still my least favorite season. I’d be hard pressed to choose my favorite, but I think it might be fall here on Cape Cod but summer isn’t too shabby.

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“Family is just accident…. They don’t mean to get on your nerves. They don’t even mean to be your family, they just are.”

February 5, 2011

I have no excuse for the lateness of the hour. Today is just one of those low energy days that happen every now and then. I have a list of the errands I had hoped to accomplish, but I’ve decided I don’t want to do them today so I’ve most over to tomorrow and a couple to Monday. I will fill the bird feeders, and I have a wash going. That’s about as accomplished as I’ll be.

It’s another gray day, and I’ve lost count of how many we’ve had. Yesterday’s sun now seems a tease from old Mother Nature. I find it difficult to believe it is only the beginning of February. This winter has been so long it should at least be the middle of March.

I have two pairs of saddle shoes, and I have decided to wear them once the sidewalks and streets are cleared of snow. I bought the first pair years ago and forgot about them until after I had bought the second pair for a 50’s party. Being 63 gives me all sorts of privileges including eccentricity, and I suspect that will be people’s reactions to my saddle shoes. Perhaps I’ll even wear stripes and plaids though that may be taking it too far, even for me.

The very young and the old are allowed to do so much more without criticism. People figure the young don’t know any better yet and the old are past caring or may even be forgetful. I am neither but I’m willing to take advantage.

My grandmother walked everywhere. She went grocery shopping and pulled a wire basket behind her to carry her groceries home. She always wore a dress and those clunky heeled shoes. Once a week or maybe every other week, she went to the hairdresser. My grandmother never learned to drive, and I don’t think it mattered. She had a really loud, annoying laugh and punctuated her conversations with it. I never noticed that laugh until I was older then it drove me crazy. My father visited her often and tried to drag one of us along with him, but we never wanted to go. She wasn’t a warm grandmother, but she did write to me when I was in the Peace Corps and always put a dollar bill in those air letters which said they should not contain any enclosures.  A dollar bill doesn’t sound like much, but in Africa in those days it bought a lot. When my grandmother was in her late 80’s, she forgot most things, even my father, her son. At Christmas I’d sit with her in my parents’ living room when she came to dinner. We all took turns sitting with her and keeping her company. She’d chat and ask a lot of questions, some several times, but we’d answer her every time. I think it was then she was the warmest she’d ever been.

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“Families are about love overcoming emotional torture.”

February 4, 2011

The sun is shining. It has been gone a long while. I missed it.

In my town, this time of year, there wasn’t a whole lot of stuff to do so winters found us inside far more than we liked. The theater had one matinee on Saturday, and it was usually filled though the balcony remained empty by choice of the owner: too many opportunities for flying candy missiles. The bowling alley was another choice, but that was really expensive to a kid on a 50 cent allowance. You had to rent shoes then pay for alley time. Begging for a bit more money from my mother sometimes helped. It was candlepin bowling. You know, those little balls, because that’s what every bowling alley around here had. I was never a very good bowler. Beyond those, there was nothing outside the house for a kid to do on freezing winter weekends when it was too cold to be out for too long. On the warmer days, though that seems an oxymoron, we could skate for free at the town rink or at the swamp.

I think we drove my mother crazy when all of us were stuck inside the house. Teasing little sisters was fun, but they always screamed to my mother who yelled some threat back to us should we continue. Most times my father was mentioned in the threat. That was enough to make us stop. My father was usually the parent we wanted to avoid when it came to punishment. He’d whack us; my mother seldom did. She was more the screamer. Later when when we were older, she’d occasionally throw things but we always ducked and ran away laughing but not so she could hear us. That would escalated the situation which, for all intents and purposes, had ended with the toss.

When we were in our teens, my father grounded us, but it never lasted for long. He’d tell us we had to miss some important event, one which we’d circled on the calender or bought new clothes for or had been planning for months. We’d cry and stomp our feet but it was all for show. We knew he’d make us stay in our rooms until close to the event then he’d come upstairs and tell us we could go, but it better not happen again.

It my mouth which got me into trouble. A quick wit is not to be used on angry parents or anyone in authority. I was a slower learner. I just couldn’t help myself. I was thrilled when I got old enough to be funny without being sent to my room.

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I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape – the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.

February 3, 2011

It is later than I hoped, but I had to make the same trip twice but in reverse. After I left the dentist, I went and bought some biscotti and a lemon loaf cake then went to another store for Gracie food. While I was there, my spankin’ new temporary crown came loose. Home I went and called the dentist who was unavailable for fifteen minutes so I decided to have coffee and an anise biscotti. When I looked in the bag from the bakery, my lemon cake wasn’t there. The dentist called and said, “Come right over,” and I did, sort of, as I stopped and got my lemon cake. My temporary crown doesn’t move a bit. I didn’t ask what they used. I was imagining Gorilla glue.

I was driving a lot today, and I loved my ride. On the way home, the second time, I took the highway and all around me was the beauty even a winter’s day can have. I was completely surprised. My view of winter has been a small one, out the window here by the desk. On the highway it was a vista. I could see far in front of me. The sky was bright with all sorts of different grays. A snow shower with its tiny flakes was spun by the wind. The bare branches on the trees along the side of the road were silhouettes. I was driving slowly, unusual for me, as I wanted the scene to stay with me as long as possible. I still don’t like winter, and I’ve had enough snow, but today gave me a whole new appreciation of winter. In its starkness there is a beauty.  Maybe that will help hold me until spring, but then again, so will the flowers I bought the other day.

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“Why, what’s the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?”

February 2, 2011

Today is the ugliest of days. It has been raining since the early morning hours. Everything is flooded because the water has nowhere to go. My pebbled walkway is a giant puddle. The few inches of snow we had the other day have turned to slush. Even the road is slush rutted. We have fog and a heavy wind. It is 44° out, but it is a warmth we can’t appreciate. When I look out my window, I can see the trees, even the largest oaks, being blown back and forth by the wind. The rain is pelting the windows. Every now and then I hear a bang as snow from the roof falls to the ground. Gracie just looks up each time recognizing it is no intruder then goes back to sleep.

The other day I bought flowers: pink, yellow and red flowers. I wanted dafs but the woman said it is too early, maybe a couple of weeks early. Other people in line also had flowers. It seems we  need a touch of color, a bit of spring.

When I was a kid, I lived my life day by day. Spring would never come to mind in the middle of winter. I just dealt with winter. For walking to school on a really cold day, I layered and walked briskly. I never complained about the weather though I did wish for a snow day as soon as the first flakes fell. The present had all my interest, except for the Christmas countdown and my birthday but they were the only exceptions. Monday led into Tuesday and that was about as far as I went. Life was easier, worry free and self-indulgent.

I don’t remember when I started to long for spring in the middle of winter. I’m thinking the older I got, the less I abided, and it continues that way.

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“February is merely as long as is needed to pass the time until March.”

February 1, 2011

I woke up this morning at 8 with the intention of going back to bed after a bathroom trip then I looked outside. It was snowing. I remembered I hadn’t filled the feeders so I put on shoes and a sweatshirt, filled a bag with sunflower seeds and went outside. After filling two of the feeders my hands were really cold so I kept putting one in the sweatshirt pouch then switching hands. I can’t wear mittens and do the feeders so I have to bear it and move fast.

I’m been back inside a while. I have a cup of coffee and I’m warm. Five feeders are now ready for the birds. A squirrel amused me this earlier. He was trying to get at the suet which is in a squirrel proof feeder. He moved all around it, reaching and trying to grab the suet. He next tried to chew the wire holding the feeder to the hook. That idea didn’t last long. He went round and round a few more times then gave up and jumped to a branch. I applauded.

When I was working, snow days were the most fun. They were a surprise and a gift. Today feels like that. After the bird feeders, my morning was leisurely. I brewed coffee and read the two newspapers. I turned on the TV which I never do so here I am watching CSI solve yet another murder. Lunch will be crackers with a three pepper dip. I’ll take a nap later. The light is on in here, and I see shadows on the walls. In the living room, the window lights and a lit gourd barely light  the room but it’s just enough to give the room a cozy air. I keep looking out the window and watching the snow. It has gone from small flakes to large flakes and now sleet seems to be mixed with the snow. The birds are huddled somewhere warm. The feeders will wait.

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“Surely as cometh the Winter, I know There are Spring violets under the snow.”

January 31, 2011

Good news about my iPad and Mac. Both now intimately know my router thanks to a comment by Mikelj3. He said, “Most users forget to unplug the router, shut down the computer and within 10-20 seconds plug the router back in & start the computer. They have to shake hands with each other & this usually fixes the problem. I cannot believe that any of the people you called didn’t ask you to try this. It usually works.” It did, and I’m so excited!!!!

The sun is shining even though it’s freezing out. From my perch here in the den the world looks deceptively bright and beautiful so I couldn’t believe how cold it was when I went to get the papers. I wish I could stay home and play with my new toys, but Miss Gracie and I have two errands a bit later. She’ll wear her lovely Pendleton coat and totally outclass me.

Winter turns me into a sloth. Staying in the warmth of my house reading a good book is one of the best ways I know to spend a winter’s day. Getting cozy under covers to take a nap helps while away a dreary winter afternoon. I know winter is cold, bleak and sometimes snowy, and I’m okay with that. I live in New England where winters aren’t supposed to be warm, but around this time every year, I miss color the most, even more than I miss the warmth of the sun.

The trees are bare; there are no flowers in the gardens, and the snow, which can be beautiful, is just plain white. I do what I can to blunt the dreariness. In my front windows I keep candles lit all year long. They chase away a bit of winter’s darkness. When I shop, I often buy flowers. They bring color and they bring hope. They remind me that spring, as always, will naturally follow winter. I just have to wait, be patient and keep warm.

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“Computers are like Old Testament gods; lots of rules and no mercy.”

January 30, 2011

I am late again today. It has to do with my router and my new Apple products. Neither the iPad nor the MacPro can find my router and hence the internet for both of them is but a dream. I showed the router to them, how pretty it is and all, but they weren’t impressed. Both snubbed my poor old router. I decided to make sure it was the router as that was a guess so I talked to Apple who said it’s the router, and they couldn’t help me; of course, I already knew it was the router so that was a meaningless phone conversation. I called Cisco about the Linksys router, and they said sorry, warranty is out of date. Apple did suggest I update the firmware, and that’s what I’ve been trying to do, unsuccessfully, over and over. I decided to take a break and write Coffee. My frustration level was teeth grinding, which is high on the scale, and I don’t need another broken tooth.

More and more I’m appreciating board games where you spin an arrow or throw dice. I love hunting through the internet, but computer problems are seldom small, easy to solve or inexpensive to fix. I was an English major for Pete’s sake! Having a problem describing the characters in To Kill a Mockingbird? Call me. We can solve your problem over the phone or we can do a live chat on line. Having a problem with the theme of Hamlet?  Set up an appointment. I’ll have you spouting the answer in no time with quotes thrown in just to impress. Even if you’re really old, I’ll never claim your warranty has expired.

If I had three wishes, one would be to travel around the world. The next would be to write the great American novel still believed to be a myth though I think there were several, unconfirmed sightings in the Rockies. My third wish would make me a computer geek, though secretly: no pen holders in my pockets or unfashionable glasses on my face. I’d like to be something like a parlor trick. I’d sashay to the computer and just offer to take a look. In minutes the miraculous would happen, and I’d have the computer fixed and humming along. After that, adoring crowds would surround me, and I’d tell them it was just nothing, but my voice would ooze false modesty.

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“Yes, risk taking is inherently failure-prone. Otherwise, it would be called sure-thing-taking.”

January 29, 2011

My life is beginning to seem like a semi-comic soap opera. The latest tragedy is I broke a tooth in half, one close to the front. It was because of a hard piece of candy: cinnamon in case you’re wondering. I’ll call my dentist on Monday if I haven’t broken a leg by then. I stayed in yesterday so I wasn’t locked out of the house.

When I was a kid, I broke one bone, my wrist, when I was five. About ten years ago I fell off a step ladder and broke bones in my shoulder (yup, a ladder again). Another time I fell off the side of the back steps, which are as high as my second floor. They didn’t have a rail. I stepped on something I couldn’t see in the dark and over I went. I knocked myself out, but I don’t know for how long. I was the only one there. I did get a sprained ankle once. It had to do with a mat and the front steps. The only car accident I’ve had was when I hit a small parking pole in the hospital parking lot. Going home I could only take rights. I did get a leg burn from my motorcycle pipe because the goats quickly changed direction and ran into me. I had stopped so they could pass. My sisters think I’m like my dad who was accident prone. There might be some truth in that, but I’ve had fewer home accidents, and I can wield a knife without cutting myself. Not once have I stuck my fingers in a whirring fan or sawed myself out of a tree. Mine are more antics than accidents.

I have to admit, though, that I am wary.

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“He’s a gentleman: look at his boots.”

January 28, 2011

Most times I am a quick study and learn easily. Yesterday I overdid and last night I woke up every hour or so in pain, and it’s still here this morning. I guess I keep trying to find the line between okay and ridiculous. Obviously I went over that line yesterday. I do have an addendum about yesterday and locked doors. My plowman was here when I left for an appointment. I told him the de-ice stuff for the steps was inside the house by the door as was his check. He was fine with that and I left. When I got home, I was locked out again. My plowman had noticed my storm door was ajar and he’s a good guy so he closed it. I called my friend Tony and told him he’d need a step ladder. I’m thinking of putting a stepladder permanently against the back porch. In the summer I’ll put plants on it so people will think it a gardening design. How pretty to see the morning glory vines climbing the ladder.

Today is a white day. The sky is white. The trees have a layer of white from the wet snow, and the ground is covered. The sun came out yesterday and melted some of the snow. Last night it froze. Ruts of ice are on the sides of the road and on the pathways. Going out makes for a strange sort of dance of stepping in one place then moving to the side then across and back all with tiny steps which remind me of the Mikado.

I seldom stayed home from school. We, my brother and sisters and I, were all pretty much a healthy bunch. We walked to school on the coldest or the wettest or the snowiest day of the year. It didn’t matter.

This time of year presented to every kid the greatest of all challenges: putting on and taking off boots. Back then they were rubber and they went over our shoes. In the morning, at home, my mother would hold the boots while we pushed and pushed until our shoes were all the way inside then she’d tuck our snow pants into the top of the boot. When we got to school, we’d sit on the floor to pull off our boots. Usually our shoes came with them, but that was just fine. We’d pull out our shoes, put them on and go into the classroom. All of that was the easy part. It was getting dressed to go home which presented the biggest challenge. If the boots were wet, the shoes just wouldn’t go inside all the way, and the bottom part of the boot would flop around. Pushing the shoes in with my hands sometimes worked, sometimes didn’t. Lots of days I’d walk home in my shoes, the boots in my school bag. My mother was never happy when I came home with wet shoes, wet socks and cold feet. Neither was I.

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