We wait for snow. Arctic air has settled north of us and is supposed to lower our near-freezing temperatures even more tonight. Fire in the woodstove is our hub. Warm dishwater soothes the fingers. I set Christmas plates and mugs on shelves, humming to piano-smooth carols from the stereo.
My daughter fasts, anticipating an Orthodox nativity observance in January. She leaves many items off her already-limited menu, but effectively it just makes her a gluten-free vegan. Lots of folks do that all the time. At least around this collegiate/middle-age-hippie region.
I’m on a bit of a blog fast. Slightly blocked, I think. But for my own purposes I’m writing. As always words come at their glacial rate. Still they arrive, given time and thoughtful energy.
Some days they’re pretty as snowflakes.
Other times I exist in aching despair, as I did after reading The Memory of Old Jack. Wendall Berry, a tobacco farmer my father’s age, living across the universe from my town, flawlessly describes aspects of my inner landscape. My heart opens at his words; I understand more; I’m softened to God though the Creator is never mentioned. I’m awash, in love, despondent, and grateful.
Kind of the right emotions for Christmas.
I heard you are supposed to get snow. Isn’t it early for you? Maybe not, I don’t know that much about that part of the country.
I’m blocking too. November seemed to do me in, and I’m just not finding anything to write about. Perhaps I’ll try tomorrow.
Be sure to take pictures of that beautiful snow!
Yes, Sandy, this is earlier than we usually get snow, if we do at all. Still nothing’s fallen here, except a few slushy flakes. The weatherman said it’s all around us! I hope we get a bit.
I think I’m in that Northern area. It’s coming down like rain. And the temperature is dropping.
I’m on a marathon of Christmas movies. I didn’t watch any last year, but this year–I have one in my computer every time I sit down. If I’m not watching, I’m listening.
There’s nothing like A Charlie Brown Christmas, where Linus talks about the real meaning of Christmas, and watching the Grinch learn Christmas doesn’t come from a store.
Ooh, Jodi, can I come watch with you? Wait, nope. Out the window here it’s all white. Is this the Pacific Northwest??
*dancing excitedly way too early in the day*
Glad to hear others are slowed down–well, not glad for you, but you know, always nice to know one is not alone.
Maybe something in the atmosphere?
Can I blame the weather here in MN? It’s -6 this morning. That’s minus six. Yikes.
I’ll look for the Berry book, Deanna–I have liked some of his essays.
I recommend Berry’s novels, Fresca, and my friends who like poetry love his stuff. I have a book of his essays and am working on collecting all the novels.
We rarely ever see snow here in December. Three inches, I think it is now at our valley home. Woohoo! I hope you’ll warm up to our balmy 30 degrees soon.
Isn’t the snow gorgeous! Even in my less than perfect state right now – danged head cold – I am enjoying this white Christmas season. I’ve been slip slidin’ around outdoors today, glad for a good sense of reflex and balance. Sheesh!
Stay warm and happy, Deanna. And words at glacial speed, ah, that’s quick enough. The better to enjoy them.
Guess we just take the snow, ice, & cold days for granted here. Seem to have been retired back here long enough(16th year now) to become immune to it again.
For somebody who has problems finding words at times, you certainly employ those you do find to full advantage.
For the warm words on a cold day – thanks.
Cherie, I hope you’re doing better.
Mike, I know it’s old hat to you. You’d so laugh at the way we’re driving (or not) around this town.
I love this story.
Love, Gretchen