Blue screen, Patience, Nap

At the fix-it computer counter (for work on my laptop) and not hearing our helper say, "Oh, no. A blue screen!"

The patience, perserverance, kindness of the person fixing my laptop. He had these qualities while the phone was ringing off the hook, more customers were coming in and another helper left.

A luscious afternoon nap covered with quilts to drown out the whistling single digit wind.

Article, Phone call, Storm Prep

"I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned." I read this at the end of a newspaper article and realized I am thinking that about a lot of things these days. It's like saying the truth, the reality of something, accepting the way of something and then not surrendering to the darkness of it. If I tell the truth of a situation or a person then I am not fooling myself or creating illusions. The fewer illusions I have, the less I am surprised and the better I can see.

I have been giving someone her space and today she called me.

Bracing for yet another storm is interesting. We three living here each have our own agenda:
I buy 4 snow shovels, rock salt, and a garden shovel.
R goes to the library for a stack of books.
B buys more frozen pizza.

Vine, Gauge, Quilt

The vine just outside the dining door retains its green leaves all winter and is a perfect hiding place for birds before they swoop down onto the feeders.

I gauge which way the wind is blowing and its strength by looking at a remnant of white plastic caught in the bare limbs of a tree behind the house.

The quilt I hung on the dining room wall was made by my husband's great-grandmother -- her signature stitches so small that I can barely see them.

Follow the sun, Sidewalks, Photos

The dog follows the sun around on the rug all morning: sleeping, waking, moving.

Sidewalks have been snowblowered, plowed and then the wind and melting rearranges the cast-off snow into phantasmal shapes.

Finding old photos and putting them in holders around the room. Marveling, when this was taken 9/11 had not happened, Tyr had not gone to Iraq, what small worries I had.

Flicker, Crystal ball, Birdseed

A enormous flicker alights on the hanging bird feeder and it becomes a carnival ride, swinging in an arc.

While working on dull business things on the computer I glance up and see a prism created by the winter sun striking a crystal ball held by a wizard statue.

This year's growth of sunflowers behind the house will be thick and strong because of all the birdseed being kicked around by the birds and the dog's attacks of the pan of birdseed which result in the stuff being thrown everywhere.

No anger, Old photos, Pepper

I rose today vowing not be angry or mad or upset about anything all day. Stepping out, the new 6" of snow plunged over my boot-tops but the garbage of three weeks got picked up because the truck did not get stuck in the parking lot and the world kept spinning.

Tidying up the green office, I found many old photos and put them in frames around the house.

The smell of freshly ground pepper and the thrill of not sneezing from it like with the finely ground store bought kind.

Feeders, Shadow, Vine, Apples, Beatles

The simple, helpful, life saving act of brushing the snow from the bird feeders, filling them, securing a baking tray of bird seed into the snow bank, dumping the ice from the water trough, filling the trough with warm steaming water, retreating to the dining room to watch a flock descend and eat. This is for Jane who died and was a better friend than I.

Bleakness for hours then a weak winter sun peeks out to cast a shadow on the yellow half painted wall from the small bust (David?) Mom brought home from Europe.

Mid winter thoughts of chopping down or moving the vine from the trellis just outside the dining room door then looking up from this to see sparrows using it to pause on their way to the bird feeders. The vine stays where it is.

Marble size crab apples on the roosting tree out back against the blue winter sky.

“Here Comes the Sun”