winter

Nope

Little Incredibly Dumb Dog

Little Incredibly Dumb Dog

I refuse to turn towards the terrace and see the snow.  The snow that’s been falling and sticking for hours now, on this Sunday, March 1st.  Nope, I’m not looking, and neither is Art Child, or the dog.  Instead, we’re all watching the tank, pretending we’re on the beach.  Join us.

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Dear Spring,

A view of a vineyard just before the spring cy...

A view of a vineyard just before the spring cycle of the growing season kicks in with budbreak. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Where are you?  It’s been much too long since we last saw each other.

I’m hoping you’re about to show up for a leisurely visit.  Though I can’t decide if it will be a surprise or not.  You’re overdue, but Winter has been here for so long I suspect he will never leave.  I tried getting a restraining order, but I’ve yet to find a judge willing to sign it. This rat bastard has his icy fists punching through every pothole, frozen toes doing the tango up and down my spine, and a steel wool beard that has turned my skin into stucco.  And that’s just the physical.

The constant sub freezing temps have done a number on my psyche.  I’ve even gone back to my yoga routine, in an effort to get myself to feel better.  No, of course I’m not contorting myself into a mangled pretzel just to catch Summer’s eye.  Maybe it is true that part of me is concerned I won’t fit in my overpriced bathing suit that’s only two years old, but honestly, that’s just a byproduct.  I’m doing it for me, because Winter has sucked the soul out of me.  Not only that, he’s been playing footsies with the 1 train.  At least 50% of the rides I’ve taken since November that train has been a mess of frozen tracks.  Late to arrive, slow to move, stopping between stations, evicting passengers for no apparent reason, and sometimes not showing up at all.

I’d rather be with you, Spring.  Truly.  At least until beach season.

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Oh Mama!

This winter is feeling very, very long.  I’ve barely taken my boots off in the last six weeks.

Sure they're ugly, but they're warm and dry.

Sure they’re ugly, but they’re warm and dry.

You know I’m just waiting for beach season, but this morning it occurred to me we’re nowhere near the end of winter.  Blargh.  So I thought about what’s been good.  Writing and editing have been very good.

Continuing to try and capture a sharp from the terrace moon pic…not as good, but getting there.  This was from this morning, somewhere between 5:30 and 6am.

But not bad, getting closer.

But not bad, getting closer.

Flower Child began art classes, excellent.  Man Child has been home, which has been beautiful.  He hasn’t been home for a good length of time since last winter, and I’m thoroughly enjoying having him here.  He helps out, he cooks and bakes (really, really well), and he makes me laugh.  As I’ve mentioned in the past, I like my kids.

Woke to fresh, home baked by Man Child cinnamon rolls the other morning…bliss.

Woke to fresh, home baked by Man Child cinnamon rolls the other morning…bliss.

His goal, for his time at home this winter involved driving.  New York kids aren’t as driving focused as teens in other areas, so it isn’t unusual that he didn’t get a license as soon as the law allowed.  But now it just makes sense, he’s been spending more and more of his time up North, and who knows where he’ll go when he graduates.  So he got his learner’s permit within days of being home, and has been practicing.  If staying up North is a consideration, this was certainly the winter to learn on, plenty of opportunity for finding out about driving in snow and ice.

Today he went to take his road test.  Like any mother, I felt compelled to give last minute words of wisdom.  With a song.