Rain and cake

dressed to get wet, I put on my running shoes
borrowed my son's ipod
flew
4.5 miles instead of my usual 3
left the dog behind and didn't feel guilty
this time it was for me
listened to this song on repeat
and flew
felt free
felt the rain sprinkling against my face
and watched it drip drip from my hat
heard my shoes slush in the mud and leftover snow
began to build back up what had slowly been torn down
me
self-worth
strength
peace
stopped apologizing for everything
dropped it all right there
the weight of the world
and felt free
and flew
and celebrated with my chocolate cake

Princess for a day

It's hard being the youngest. I was the youngest of only two (which probably isn't so terrible) so I don't really know how much harder it is to be the youngest of three but she does. So when big brother has baseball camp and a friend over and then tryouts, and big sister has a friend over and she doesn't, my mom gene kicks in and I know it's time for some one on one.

We made a homemade chocolate cake. We straightened her hair, put on makeup and did our nails. We decided a veil was the best accesory. Then we drew and listened to pandora in my studio with the light streaming in the windows. I'd just gotten a wild hair to clean them. Only happens once a year.

And in short order, she went from angelic princess,

to herself.

Which,

is a little more

dramatic

and silly.

Sometimes we adults need the special treatment too. What we don't realize when we set out to make someone else's day better, is that we end up making our own better at the exact same time.

But if there's no one else around, and your day hasn't been brightened by others around you, call a good friend and then buy yourself some flowers. Really. Today's choice was live tulips. I needed a double dose of happiness.

Making time

It's a good thing (for me) my friends are understanding, forgiving and make the same kind of mistakes I do, so when I totally flake out and miss a get together (in part due to the fact that our phone wasn't working for three days and it took me all three to figure it out) they simply reschedule and don't think twice about it.

We are busy. I know I'm not alone. We hurry. I know I'm not alone. We rush and corral kids and get impatient and think it's all so important. I know I'm not alone.

But on days like these, when it's rainy, cold, and snow is still everywhere, I know that sitting in my little studio with a friend, sharing tea, the woodstove and catching up from where we last left off is really the only very important thing on my very long list.

And this one happens to bring goodies. Every. Single. Time.

Blue night

It was the last day, the last big hurrah on the sledding hill. Number nine in a series of snow days, off from school. We all knew it would end.

But things are still covered here, slippery, sloppy, wet and cold. The light a dusk looking especially blue tonight on my walk down to close the chickens up for the night. Come with me.






























As I make my way back up to the house, I can almost feel the heat from the woodstove just by looking at the warm glow from my office window.

It's time

It must have been the cold last night that made the snow look like it had millions of little tiny diamonds on top of it this morning as I made the trek down to the chickens. Whatever the reason, it was a treat. The quiet, the sparkles, the way my nostrils froze together as I inhaled, a world all it's own and one we rarely get to experience.

We've plowed out, and the tractor fairy has mysteriously plowed out the neighbors as well, missing out on the afternoon of sledding, or "sleigh-riding" as so many here in Virginia say. I swear, "ya'll", I "reckon" I'll never fit in. (yes, they really say reckon here. a lot.)

Too much sleigh riding leads to exhaustion on the hill. My littlest decided to eat her fill of snow today.

while the older two apparently did headstands.



What I now know is that they very clearly need to go back to school. They'll miss their sixth day in a row tomorrow. My oldest said at dinner just tonight, "You know, it's really not as much fun anymore staying home and missing so much school."

Enough said.

As for the knitting I seem to be on a hat roll these days. This next one is for my brother in law, catering to his unfortunate Harley Davidson affliction.

White out

Okay, well maybe that's overkill, but it is bad when you have to shovel snow to get the barn door open just so you can get the tractor out to plow. It was the steady rain and sleet most of the day yesterday and all night long that have put this bout of weather into a new category, different from the last two storms. It's slick, it's icy, it's dangerous.

Even the dog can't quite believe it.

We're feeling fortunate to have not lost power. Yet.

And we're thankful for a full wood rack and a constant fire.

The house smells like cookies just baked,

we've had some visitors, and played loads of games, video and otherwise.

But even the young among us aren't quite sure what to make of it. If this were Maine we'd be well accustomed, but when you consider we were wearing shorts during the 60 degree days of last month, this is quite an abrupt change.

So we continue to kill the time with indoor activities like the piano,

and knitting, this time for those enduring chemo,

and up next another project in red, I'm just searching for the right pattern at the moment, and resting up for sledding tomorrow.

Little projects

Despite the fact that the knuckle on my right middle finger is twice it's normal size due to an unplanned sledding injury, I managed to finish my scarf. It's dense, soft, warm, a bright spot against the gray drear of winter (or whiteout depending on where you live), and it's mine. For once this project isn't for someone else. And, I'm even making a rare appearance in the photo, a step in a direction opposite from the norm.

Who knows what other changes I'll make, I may even decide to pick up that guitar again one day and try to pluck something out on it. But for now, I highly recommend this scarf as a fulfilling cold weather project, and I'm off to see what other goodies I can find. They say we're in for another blast of snow with substantial accumulation this weekend, think I'd better get ready. After all my knuckle isn't quite able to handle the strumming just yet.

Snoverload

After three days of excitement, injuries, and that worn-out-to-the-bone feeling that comes from playing as hard as one possibly can, some curious things have taken shape. Caution has come into play, with the littlest ones looking on, wondering sometimes if it's really worth it.

The scrapes,

the long, tiring trek back up the slope and the unknown of the next ride.

But on they go,

overcoming fear, embracing the freedom,

finding the silliness,

however they can,

tempting even the oldest ones in the group who recover the slowest and feel it the most (that's me at the bottom of that big hill up there).

It's well worth the slide, even without a sled,

and the walk back up, because this doesn't happen every winter here. It may not snow like this again until they're adults if history tells us anything.

So we gather it all in, this precious time. With the memories, the bruises, the aches and scrapes, reminders all that we are here, and that life is good, and full and wide open.