Happy Tuesday. Say it three times and make it so. Which will be challenging since it is raining and slushing. It feels like we are living in a cold shower lined with ice. The whole gripper thing is an issue as well. My preffered ice cleats are the micro-spikes. They are great. But hard to get on and off boots, and they pierce indoor flooring and outdoor decks like golf shoe spikes or logging boots. At the library the other day I took my boots off, spikes and all, and put my slippers on, since the floors are wet and sandy. It's an option.
"Love shall be our token; love be yours and mine,
love to God and neighbor, love for plea and gift and sign." --Christina Rossetti
(From a Christmas hymn in the Episcopal Church Hymnal)
Caroline calls it Mimi Time, as in "I think I need some Mimi Time" (her name for me is Mimi) and I call it Caroline Time, as in "I think I need some Caroline Time." She is almost five, her birthday is next week, and I am almost 56, my birthday is in June. But we both are old enough and young enough to like good dog Pearl, playing outside, coloring, listening to Christmas music in January, and reading out loud.
The wind must have shifted just enough last night to keep the whole town up. Pearl was pacing all night long. It sounds like thunder and feels like an earthquake to her. Naturally, she's in deep dreamland now. On the way to Morning Muscles lawn chairs skittered down the icy road, and I almost ran into a big spruce tree that the wind had knocked down across Tower Road.
Listening to the forecast is humbling. It's supposed to stay this windy (50 mph or so) and pretty cold (warmer, like 18) until Friday. They are playing hockey at the rink and the ice is good on Rutzebeck Lake. (But be careful, as always.) The ski club has set tracks at 25 mile, where there's lots of snow. ( The dividing line between ice coated town and a winter wonderland of snow is about four-mile.) The sun and the fire are keeping the living room cozy.
"In skating over thin ice, safety is our speed." Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Last night, over black-eyed peas, greens, and corn bread-- New Year's good luck food, we five women friends talked about faith, spirits, and a clairvoyant some of us had visited when she came to Haines a few years ago. (Our spouses watched the football game.) It was a rambling talk around my mother's old table that veered between the known and unknown, life and death, the great beyond, God and no God, music or flames, all of it. And it wasn't depressing even though two of the friends had lost young sons in tragic accidents.
We are almost back to normal. With Christmas and New Year's falling on Thursdays the last two weeks have been kind of manic-- on and off again-- celebrate and get to it-- and today we are sort of on again-- it is a work day before one final (sort of) holiday weekend.