We got about 4 inches of snow today and we're part of that 13 state snow and ice system coming in for round two tomorrow. Everyone is expecting a snow day. I'm going to be happy with what I can get. If we have a day off, great- I have a ton of reading to do and two online conferences tomorrow pm. If we don't, my sophomores are planning my dream house, so we have a lot of work to do, redesigning blue prints and learning green technology vocab in espanol.
This is the front porch roof and the snowbanks flanking my driveway through the triple tracks.
I wonder why those of us who do are nuts enough to live up here.
I used to like ice skating. I used to sled. I have snow shoes, but I don't even have time to brew coffee in the morning.
I think that the first few snow falls of the year are gorgeous... then it dumps a few times and you get stuck in enough driveways and you get over it. By February 1st, I'm shot of winter... but the glorious thing about weather in New York is that spring comes... and I relish the thought of breaking earth in the garden... of muddy hands and dirt caked flip flops and rain boots... and dirty paws. I'm dying to add a fur ball to the family and I think this summer might be time.
This is a pic I took from the front of a small motor boat that took us around the grottos of Capri in July '10. It's hard to imagine that such a world/ such colors exist when we're being ravaged by winter. It's hard to remember how the sun bent the colors and how hot the rocks were on the beach that afternoon as we invented a version of burying someone in the sand for stone beaches--throwing stones on sunbathing travel mates.
I read something interesting in my creativity and media seminar that strikes me as serendipitous given the doldrums of winter we're experiencing up here. It was talking about how most creative people had been thought of as loose cannons and how often we hear of successful people having a history of depression or anxiety problems... the interesting bit of research, that I'm not going to delve into the science of (because I'm not solid on it or on the sources) is that depression at its basis is the opposite of creative... one feels they've run out of options and is backed into a corner, with some potentially rash consequences, whereas the other sees nothing but possibilities.
I read or saw something once that said 'to believe in nothing was stupidity, but to believe in everything was simplicity.' We can be fed up with things... even things we have no control over, but maybe we need to have more faith in change or in ourselves. We need to know that, when we're pulling on our snow boots in the morning or deicing the car for the second time that day, beautiful things exist, we just need to find them or let them find us.
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| Figgy, coming back stronger than ever and ready to sun himself outside again (pic from yesterday) |
It's knowing that spring will come, but that it will be different than any other spring I've ever lived through.. that infinite flexibility and change that fascinate me with this world. To sound hokey, I'm amazed by so much and fortunate to get to be me.
I have an 80s party to plan... I'm digging out the pictures of my punk rock chick costume from halloween when I was 6 or 7 and I'm going to see how I can mash up that look with the "Better Off Dead" house band's lead singer's ridiculously divine silver lame' number... this should be soooo good or at least hilarious.
So, those are my happy thoughts while I make some hot cocoa, finish grading midterm essays and get ready for the storm.
Be safe and warm!
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