Friday, November 22, 2013


Ed calls up from the kitchen. Wake up! It snowed! He is letting Isis in. Or out. Or both. But it's too early to go down and admire any white cover over our bare land.
No, take a picture.

But I am awake. I look out the kitchen window...

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... and a few minutes later I am outside, feeling the crunch of snow as I walk to the back of the barn and then back again.

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It's the second snowfall (or more aptly -- snow dusting) of this year and so you'd think the magic would be already waning, but it isn't. It still feels special.

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Albeit cold. Upstairs, wanting to warm up, I take Ed's hand. Icy fingers on his warm palm. He resists, but I'm insistent. More importantly, we're both now wide awake.

And so breakfast is on the early side.

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And then Ed takes off for his tasks, and I take off for mine, and the sun comes out, and by the time I return home, the snow is nearly a thing of the past.

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And the robin sits on the willow and smirks, as if he knew all along.

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But don't think we're in for a warm spell! Tomorrow night we'll dip to 8 degrees. That's 8 degrees Fahrenheit.
Should we brush the snow off the porch roof before it freezes into a solid piece of ice?
Do you really want to do that all winter long?
No... but we're only just beginning with the snow.

Still, we let it go. It's winter. No amount of clearing and sweeping will change this basic fact.

Best to put energies to soup making. Chowder again. Fish and all the veggies that I could pull out of hiding.

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