Wednesday, January 19, 2022

and many more...

Whereas I cannot remember a year where I would have not been present for my older girl's birthday, my younger daughter has by now had more birthdays without me at her side than ones where I could pop in and give her a great, big hug. Shockingly, more birthdays hit the weekday than the weekend (ha!) and so more often than not she has been busy with far away studies, then work, rarely afforded vacation days in this cold winter month. We have postponed and deferred and I'm sure she feels less fussed over than the average family member (especially since an increasing number of family members are below the age of 8 and so fusses abound). But I am equally positive that she knows that she is and always will be my beloved younger one, the little girl whose spirit is gentle but whose passions run deep. Happy, happy birthday!

(From a FaceTime call today: I'm in the car, bundled up and pulled over, she is with Juniper)




It's a brutally cold day. That's not unusual and indeed, it can get even worse at this time of the year. Still, despite the brilliant sunshine, no one is especially clamoring to go outside. 

(the cheeper girls give it a try, then give up and retreat to the barn)




It's the kind of day where both Ed and I think hot oatmeal for breakfast is a good idea.




Afterwards, I trim his hair. I always ask if he's absolutely sure he does not want to grow it out to a ponytail and he always smiles in response, recognizing the ridiculousness of the idea. Pony tails require care. I can't get Ed to comb his hair, let alone do something so taxing as pulling it back into a neat swag of curls.

And when the sun is at its warmest moment and the thermometer reaches a toasty 12F (-11C), I drive over to my older girl's home, where the kids run out for an outdoor greeting and then shiver on the front step over their gogs snack.




Sparrow is not a cold weather person and after a few minutes he retreats indoors. Snowdrop lasts a little longer and we read together in this fashion, there on the front step, over muffins, gingerbread, cherries, berries and mango, and of course that essential -- the warm thermos of cocoa.

All three kids are okay, but each presents a trickle of mild symptom, the common denominator being fatigue, maybe some sniffles, maybe a slight infection. Troopers all.




And then I drive home, stopping at the post office to send a registered letter, and as I wait forever in a place where mask wearing by some is mocked (have you seen the "just up to my lip line" version of this?), I think -- my sick grandkids come outside in this cold weather to see me for a little bit in this protected fashion and you can't even sell postage stamps to customers of various vulnerabilities wearing a mask properly! How weary one can get with humankind...

But not too weary. Most people care. It is always important to remind yourself this: most people care very much.

In other news, I read today about the tragic skiing death of a well known and well loved young French actor. The details of this caught my eye because it all happened in a place where I would surely go, were I to go skiing in the near future -- a quiet skiing corner in southeastern France. And it reminded me of why skiing these days is such a dangerous sport: it's not how you ski, it's the reckless others who are your greatest enemy. Someone ran into this guy.  Okay, this is a tragic and rare ending, but to a rather routine these days event. Last time I skied the Alps some eight years ago, I was also slammed into by an out-of-control big guy who was skiing on a slope well beyond his skiing abilities. I swore I would never ski again. These days I keep going back to the idea of maybe someday doing one more grand run down a big mountain. And then I remember the craziness of some novices who go to ski resorts because it's a badge of honor to do so, rather than because they care about the art of the sport, and I think -- eh, maybe I'm done with downhill. Let's stick with Nordic!

Which reminds me -- might we get some more snow please?

There is something astonishingly peaceful about a January night. My candle is Evergreen from Brooklyn Candles. It's my new favorite: pine needles and a touch of eucalyptus, laced with cedar, oakmoss and wild currant, with just a touch of balsam, black walnut and smoked vanilla. That's their description. And it's spot on.

Happy winter birthday sweetest little girl! 




With so much love!


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