Of all the things I tell myself on a somewhat regular basis, like the "living in a place with an actual, real, cold, winter makes me a stronger person," well, I've finally decided that that line is a huge, crock of crap. And anyone else that says it, well, you're a lying liar, and you know it.
I will admit that every winter there is about one or two kinds of snowfall that I actually, truly enjoy, that makes whatever is left of that dying sense of magical wonder in me pop back up in my chest and out of my throat as a gasp of, "my god, this is truly great."
The kind of snowfall with the large puffy flakes, that comes down in blankets, that covers everything around you, makes the air still, sounds muffled, almost totally silent, peaceful...
Last night was one of those snowfalls, and part of me is sad that it ended sometime this afternoon, even though it deposited probably a foot of snow over everything.
The rest of the snowfalls this season either just don't compare, or its the cold, bitter kind of snowfall... The ground just collects more of the stuff, and becomes black mush from the endless exhaust of automobiles. The days get colder, the nights colder still, and will go on in endless gray until sometime in April, when, just maybe, the weather will start to get warmer, and then inexplicably go away and come back in two weeks time and crush every one with another huge snow storm, until finally we are released...
But last night was the good kind of snowfall. And though I loved it, I'm officially done with the snow. If only there was one such kind of snowfall a year, and after it ended, so did winter, and that would be it for the year. That would be nice.
...
G. and I spent a good part of the morning shoveling, probably the most intense exercise I've gotten in quite a while. My arms are still weak from it.
Unfortunately My driveway has this ugly downward slope which happened to collect an extra foot or so of snow thanks to the snowplows that plowed the roads during the night.
But we chugged through it, thus created an even bigger mound that almost reaches up to mid-chest level on either side of the driveway. If I were a kid again I'd make an awesome snow fort out of it. Instead I just looked at it in awe, and said, "damn, someone, somewhere is probably having a heart attack right now."
Our reward for our shoveling good deed was to be able to get her car out of the driveway, and thus we were able to go buy groceries, specifically a case of three buck chuck from Trader Joe's.
Yes, a case. We like the red wine in our little house. Really cheap wine.
...
Some people also decided to go sledding this fine night, though I neglected to go due to said shoveling/physical exertion and the fact I don't own any heavy duty snow gear. Also due to some early childhood, traumatic sledding mishaps, specifically sledding into a half frozen river which soaked me through and through and I had to wait in the cold for half an hour for my mother to come pick me up.
so instead i reheated up the coffee I stole from work earlier, and worked on some song lyrics, which I've been toying with for a week now. Its a sad little number. But I'm reasonably happy with it.
...
At least the solstice is coming soon. And with it the darkest, longest night of the year. And then its all downhill from there, right?
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