Thursday, December 23, 2010
effects of snow
Who would have thought, ten years back, that Facebook would be where it is today? And, conversely, didn’t it seem, ten years back, that holiday cards were a thing of the past?
They’re not. I think they’ve made a bit of a comeback. E-cards, step aside! You’re worthless. Yes, holiday cards use paper, but it's a noble usage, isn't it? Of all the pieces of paper in the mailbox, isn't the card or letter from someone the most valuable of them all?
So I’m jumping on the card bandwagon. For this brief holiday period I look forward to the arrival of the mail again. And the envelopes, often with handwritten addresses (how archaic and lovely) catch my eye, and I rush to open them and I smile at the messages inside.
In other news, I have a mountain of work and so I am forced to shut out temptations to romp and be frivolous. Holiday or no holiday, I need to move past the old semester and roll in the new one.
Still, there’s all this snow...
And I know I’ve been burdened by it in weeks past (I just wrote out my claim letter to Air France listing all the financial consequences of lost bags, cancelled flights and unavailable connections and it was a very very long letter), but Europe’s airport troubles notwithstanding, I do like snow.
And so this afternoon I put things aside and nudged Ed to go skiing with me for an hour or two. Not big time skiing on complicated trails, just calm and quiet skiing.
At least that was the goal. It seems that I could not really slow down. I forged ahead in bursts of speed as if there was a destination I had to reach in record time.
Maybe it is that you cannot relax and take things slowly when you are in the forest unless elsewhere in life you’re relaxed and taking things slowly.
Meantime, I’ve got work to do. In between tasks, I'm beginning to fill out forms listing in great detail what may have been in that missing suitcase. Would you remember all items that you packed in a suitcase a week back? I would. Five bottles of wine, four pairs of very worn corduroy pants, a hairbrush, one pair of heavy snow boots...
They’re not. I think they’ve made a bit of a comeback. E-cards, step aside! You’re worthless. Yes, holiday cards use paper, but it's a noble usage, isn't it? Of all the pieces of paper in the mailbox, isn't the card or letter from someone the most valuable of them all?
So I’m jumping on the card bandwagon. For this brief holiday period I look forward to the arrival of the mail again. And the envelopes, often with handwritten addresses (how archaic and lovely) catch my eye, and I rush to open them and I smile at the messages inside.
In other news, I have a mountain of work and so I am forced to shut out temptations to romp and be frivolous. Holiday or no holiday, I need to move past the old semester and roll in the new one.
Still, there’s all this snow...
And I know I’ve been burdened by it in weeks past (I just wrote out my claim letter to Air France listing all the financial consequences of lost bags, cancelled flights and unavailable connections and it was a very very long letter), but Europe’s airport troubles notwithstanding, I do like snow.
And so this afternoon I put things aside and nudged Ed to go skiing with me for an hour or two. Not big time skiing on complicated trails, just calm and quiet skiing.
At least that was the goal. It seems that I could not really slow down. I forged ahead in bursts of speed as if there was a destination I had to reach in record time.
Maybe it is that you cannot relax and take things slowly when you are in the forest unless elsewhere in life you’re relaxed and taking things slowly.
Meantime, I’ve got work to do. In between tasks, I'm beginning to fill out forms listing in great detail what may have been in that missing suitcase. Would you remember all items that you packed in a suitcase a week back? I would. Five bottles of wine, four pairs of very worn corduroy pants, a hairbrush, one pair of heavy snow boots...
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I would not remember. It's a problem when I pack suitcases to haul stuff to Mexico, by the time I get to my destination, I have not only no idea which suitcase contains what, I also forgot most of what I brought...so it's always like Christmas when I start unpacking in the middle of the living room. Amazing memory you have!
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