Twelve inches of snow. We
wake at dawn and pull the curtains open—clap hands, coo, shriek, jump on bed.
Mugs of hot tea and hot milk arrive (thank you, man of ours, the one who stokes
the fires, the one who keeps the dishes clean, the one who makes us laugh the
hardest). We’re driving nowhere
today. Sleds, feet, skis only. Wood stove, soup, skeins, paper, scissors,
board games, popcorn, you-name-it and what-have-you. Later: stew, woodstove,
friends, Mary Poppins, scotch and a deck of cards. So we can all get lost in
one way or another. This is The Way to Love the Winter. This is The Way to Be Here, Now. And
this quiet, right this minute, (while one child rides in the plow
truck and the other sleeps upstairs), this cup of strong black tea and
these warm legs (while outside the windows the wind blows white), this is The Way
to Bring Peace to the Mother Whose Peace Brings Peace to the Day.
perfect
ReplyDeleteHow beautiful, how beautiful in delivery and content and contented soul. Miss you, friend.
ReplyDeleteTurkeychild, did you notice the word "skeins?" Think I'm making wrist warmers today. Into the fire I go. (Miss you, too.)
Deleteyou are so good at being in the moment. i spent half last night looking up airfare to anywhere that i could replace the snow with sand. looking forward to stew, cards and whisky. xo
ReplyDeleteyes indeedy!
DeleteHoping to absorb a little of that Peace as well this blustery morning. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteGosh, when does Spring arrive in Vermont? Do you wake up one morning and all the snow is gone and the sun is peaking out? It comes late March here but it sneaks in so you hardly notice, slightly warmer every day, slightly less rain..I love the way you get through - you describe the very best of things, the things that keep hearts and minds warm.
ReplyDeleteSpring arrives (argh) in late April. Which means March, the hardest month, is yet to come. Wish we could hop on a plane to your awakening motherland...
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