Funny how so many words can have a double meaning! But truly, mine today is purely meteorological: we wake up to ice. On the walkway. On the cars. Sleek, shiny, slippery. You can't really see it, but it's there to trip you up.
(the chickens have no problems with it: must be their clawed feet...)
We are up early once again. I dont even know why. All your adult life you think sleeping in the greatest thing on earth and then when you can do it, you don't.
Ed joins me for an oatmeal breakfast.
And then I spend a lovely morning on Zoom with my Warsaw friend Bee. This is the way you have to approach a call or a visit with a friend these days: you dont start in on The Topic. The world may be toppling, or imploding, or going mad -- you'll get to that, but you have to start with all the sweetness in your life first. We review trips taken, the antics of grandkids, plans for the weeks before us. And only then, properly soothed and with a steady hand, you dive into That Stuff. The news of the day, or is it week, or maybe two weeks. It's not good, in fact it's so not good that you can't quite get a handle on it because there are so many details and moving pieces, and hurts and fears, but hey, your friend reads the news or listen to stuff on the radio, she knows. The world knows. Yeah, they know that it's tough to be an American right now.
There is sunshine outside and I do take a walk afterwards. Ed's feeling lazy so it's just me. Short and to the point. It's beastly windy and where there is shade, there is ice, but still, whatever else happens in my day, two things must take place: movement, and a French lesson. (Ha! I bet you didn't see that one coming!) I do both.
And then it's time to pick up Snowdrop. Just her this Thursday. And here's the thing: ice means salt. Our roads have been salted three times over and then some. The car is one salt crusted heap of metal. It needs a wash. I ask Snowdrop is she wants to go over to a new car wash near us. Always enthusiastic, she gives her approval.
Unfortunately, everyone in town has the same idea. There are six cars before us. Sure you want to wait? I ask her. Yes!
Once in line you can't get out. Six cars may seem not much. But my watch tells me each car is taking at least six minutes.
It's a long wait.
We make up poems as we crawl forward. Lots of silly lines, lots of laughter. But I know what will follow: her utter disappointment that we lost that much of our reading time.
The path leading to the door of the farmhouse is shaded. And so the ice there did not melt. Uff! Ice is messing with my day! Even as I know that it messes with the days of others in a much more serious fashion.
(Snowdrop bounces back like no kid I know! Or perhaps like all kids whose lives are good and happy...)
(It's been a while since I've seen them tussle... always with loads of giggles coming from her)
The winds howl, the temps drop. The ice wont melt any time soon. Ed and I are lucky: the farmhouse is warm, the food is good, we have each other.
with love...
