Rabbit rabbit

 

Rabbit rabbit!

 

One must have a mind of winter

The tune your bones play as you keep going

February snow for us today, after a freak February fake spring Wednesday that reached nearly 65 degrees. I went out that afternoon with my long lopping shears and attacked the Rosa rugosa, carefully tossing the thorny branches over our tall fence into the back yard. I made it out nearly unscathed, just one fingertip embedded with the tiny spikes (my ferocious gardening regularly wears holes in my good work gloves). In the end, I took pity on one very small clump of rugosa, but I may reconsider and shear it to the ground (I should. I probably will). After the ground thaws, I'll dig up as many of the roots as I can...my eventual plan is to replace it with this and this and maybe this and this.

But I'm here now, and now there's dry snow rushing from the sky in clouds, greying the windows. We walked Clover over to Deering Oaks into wind that was shockingly cold, snow that felt sharp on our faces. She chased sticks up and down the hill, and we watched passing plows push plumes of snow into the air along the highway beside the park. The walk home put the wind at our backs. I was thinking about Ukraine the whole time, wondering what the weather is like there right now.*

Abominable Snow Dog

*It's raining lightly in Kyiv, and residents are barricading themselves in their homes, having been instructed how to make Molotov cocktails.

You want it to be one way

It's snowing, gorgeous fluffy snow, plenty of it, and unlike past years when I've been sad that the wintery weather held off until after Christmas, this time we got both: actually perfect Christmas Day snow, and this lovely melancholy January storm.

Clover wears her boots proudly, after an initial comedy routine of about 30 seconds, in which her feet and legs look like they're being controlled by an inept puppeteer. It's like an extra treat we get every time we put them on her, a moment of hilarity. (Without the boots, she limps sadly over salted sidewalks and stops every five minutes to clean snowballs from her fancy feet.) 

Okay, I should be writing some things so there will be actual money in my next paycheck, but I had to quickly link to this Tilda Swinton profile because:

"My ambition was always about having a house by the sea and some dogs."

And

She’s smiling, and says she’s got a surprise. We head off towards her car, Swinton marching ahead imperiously. In the car there are four springer spaniels in the back and a fifth, the eldest, Rosy, is in the front passenger seat.

We went to a January 6 vigil for democracy last night which was a little bit lackluster. Or maybe that was just me. There were a few guys with a flag that said FUCK BIDEN and fuck you for voting for him. One guy had a megaphone, but the crowd was large enough that it could drown him out pretty easily. The speaker said, "Don't engage!" and although the group was mostly middle-aged and older, I imagined a shared feeling among us all, the holding back of an impulse to surround those jerks and tear them limb from limb like in a Shirley Jackson story.

Elmo and a regular-ass rock

This is why I need to write stuff first thing in the morning. This is my brain in the afternoon.

It's on sale BUT WHAT IS IT

A web isn't a home

I could never have dreamed I'd live in an age in which my husband can look at the magic watch on his wrist and see how many calories both of my sisters-in-law burned that day. What a time to be alive!

Note: Today the role of the toast in "Avocado Toast" will be played by Trader Joe's frozen hash browns baked extra crispy.

The fire pit in our yard is not the site of many merry socially-distanced Nordic-style hot chocolate gatherings, as I'd pictured. Rather, it is only growing rustier in the snow.

It blows my mind that when you see a video of a murmuration of starlings (or if you're very very lucky, actually witness a murmuration), each of those starlings looks like this!

The way the BBC reporter says "em" instead of "um." The way she pronounces "WHO," "double-u haitch oh."

Breathe like you love yourself

 

BENJI!

Twenty-five days in a row I've gotten up at 5:30* to get a glimpse of Benji and do yoga with Adriene! It really is a great way to start the day, although I haven't quite adjusted my bedtime to be in line, and I am really really tired by 3pm.

What else? We attended a virtual engagement party this weekend, and ice skated on a pond at dusk, stayed too long, and stumbled back through the dark woods in search of our parking spot. Actually, that was like a bonus moonlight hike, lovely. And we had the whole frozen pond to ourselves, except for two hockey kids who took breaks to do jumps and spins on their skates. You know those kids who have clearly been running around on ice skates since they could barely walk?

Things are weirdly snowless around here for late January, and now that I've written those words, it will undoubtedly snow like crazy (fingers crossed. I mean, we live in Maine!).

*Theo is delighted to see me at 5:30, he's the king of the house at that hour. He's a furry host, welcoming me, rolling around on the yoga mat underneath my downward dog and plank, licking my fingers and toes.

4

Four, fourteen, forty-four, all my lucky numbers. I have a friend who's deeply superstitious of the number four, and many cultures consider it bad luck. I searched far and wide for a contrasting superstition, with no luck (no pun intended). So it's mine, all mine, lucky number four.

The word of the day is heuristic.

The first book I finished in 2020 was Jia Tolentino's Trick Mirror, and I enjoyed it so much that I didn't rate it three stars (my usual appraisal of almost all books) but (wait for it) FOUR.

Mom recommended this article by Heidi Julavits, and I agree, it's wonderful.

Because of my falconry training

I'm so glad I got to meet the Black Hawk in person, skating by on actual ice skates (me, not the hawk), before his little feet got frostbitten and he was rescued by some intrepid cross country skiers.*

Noted, while walking the tundra-frozen byways of Portland the First today: some people shovel such incredibly narrow paths along their sidewalks. What do they use to do that? Tiny tiny shovels? Litter box scoops? And others are so sloppily excavated they look like they were done with frying pans (a thing I actually witnessed once, although it was a person shoveling their car out of a snowbank).





*He's doing better.

Twenty-eight

It only hit me today how little of November is left, despite my counting down like this. December usually comes sneaking up on me, but I guess there are hardly any months I don't feel that way about (it still takes a long long time for March to arrive, and usually April too). We celebrated Thanksgiving at India Palace with a delicious feast, and we've been more or less feasting ever since. It feels lovely to have the house full, and our temporary kitchen situation is even working out just fine.

Gus couldn't be happier about this snow, just barely enough for a dog to frolic in.

Three

Home again, after a happy/sad weekend, including a quick visit with my girl in Cambridge.  I drove there from Holly's house in Connecticut partially in a swirling sudden snowstorm, the kind that makes you grip the steering wheel a little bit tighter and constantly re-adjust the windshield wipers.

Now I've got a few days' worth of catching up to do. There is sun slanting through the window at a strange, post-Daylight Savings Time angle. There is snow in the grass, but there are also pink beach roses still blooming in the yard.

A Mind of Winter

A day like this.

 


 

Listening to Low, drinking ginger tea, feeling under the weather (literally and figuratively). I keep trying to work and running into the word "nauseating," which I should be defining creatively, but which I am not.

the world fallen under this falling

the first snow day of the school year was actually unwelcome to isaac, who is midway through intensives week at the shack. he is having a great time making a short post-apocalyptic film with a small group, assisted by chaperons extraordinaire, mark and david m. check out mark's photos from the shoot here. also, thursdays are ski club day. so despite the lovely snow outside, my boy can't slide down a mountain in/on it. he did outfit himself in winter gear and hike a mile to a friend's house. and mark and i outfitted ourselves as well and shoveled the driveway. our neighbor across-two-streets was singing something, and i could've sworn it was crazy train. it seems a little early in the season for that, n'est-ce pas?


snow day by billy collins

i'll hold your hands, they're just like ice

dog-of-the-day, your pal minnow.

it's finally getting cold, and while i like to complain about my chilly fingers and toes (and nose, and the insides of my very bones), it actually strikes me as appropriate to need a winter coat and gloves when one ventures outside. you know, in maine. in december. and maybe it's because of my new bean boots, but i find myself eagerly anticipating snow.

in the meantime, it is vital to keep up an almost constant intake of tea and toast.

inside/outside

dog on bench.

dog in snow. minnow and i are getting kind of really really sick of the wintry weather. somehow i allowed the whole weekend to pass without going outside at all. until i walked out the door at seven p.m. sunday night with the dancer to obtain snacks and watch the oscars in front of her cozy wood stove.

minnow would like you to be his valentine

the listener, who listens in the snow

i know it, but i manage to forget every year. the way to come to terms with winter and the weather that comes (constantly) with it, the way to answer the question, "why do i live in maine of all places?" is to go outside. i mean, to expand my horizons beyond my driveway, where i spend plenty of time.

to be able to jump in the car, drive ten minutes, and be here, just mark, minnow, me, and one lone photographer balancing his tripod precariously at the edge of the jagged rocks? how many people are that lucky?

we wore our snowshoes, and i wore gaiters (which i'm usually too lazy to put on, but they are pretty magical when i do wear them). minnow found himself up to his furry armpits in snow several times. it was quiet and bright and gorgeous.

my kingdom

doubtful but dutiful dog.

my chicken dreams are tempered when i imagine digging a path out to the playhouse chicken house through the snow.

i was standing in snow up to my thighs when i took this picture.

note: depth of snow = deep. observe the passing car in the background.

my snow shovel collection

usually, if one stands in the mouth of one's driveway looking exhausted or melancholy or damp, holding a shovel, the passing city snowplow will adjust its enormous blade in such a way as to avoid piling a mountain of snow and ice and dirt at one's feet and blocking the driveway one has just labored for an hour to clear. usally, but not always.

snow day

every day has been a snow day lately around here (though not the kind where school is canceled, just a day where snow falls from the sky and lands in my driveway). monday was a fabulous blizzard, and tuesday the snow continued to fall softly all day. bean was home sick, and i took a break mid-day to get beat by her in scrabble and drink some tea.

lunch

we celebrated the year's first snow day with vegan matzoh ball soup, made for us by bean.