Six More Weeks

Winter’s Warmth

Wow, so a couple of you took umbrage with my casual mention of Spring in the last post.   I guess the snowblindness and frostbite are making you a little cranky, but the facts are in my favor.  Every night the sun sets just a little later, there’s more birds around, and it’ll only be a couple of months or less before I have crocus pictures to share with you.   On the evening I was writing, I’d just been out for a nice long walk on a day when we enjoyed temperatures in the high 40s and – more importantly – almost no wind.   It was delightfully spring-like, comparitively-speaking, and I guess that spilled over into my writing.

Since I was due for a haircut, I’d gone to wander around Provincetown for an afternoon.  It’s pretty quiet out there this time of year,  but still fun to go for a walk after being off my feet earlier in the month, especially with the sunny day to enjoy.

It’s been nice to have those warm memories with me this weekend, of course.   As the week ended, freight train winds roared into town with temps in the 20s, and a windchill to knock us into negative numbers.   Brrr.  Tiny little ice crystals spin around in the sunny cold air and almost all the birds spend lots of the windy day in hiding.   Only the crows are visible, huddled together on the branches outside the window, their black feathers absorbing the sun’s heat.

Lots of businesses in PTown are closed this time of year, and some of the property owners have arranged to have local students’ art displayed in storefront windows.   I just loved this chickadee painting, and in the bargain, you get one of those stealthy blogger self-portraits.

Have no fear, my friends – I know that all of February…and March…stretch ahead of us for winter, and I’m sure plenty of that will be cold.  But if it’s all the same to you, I’ll hold onto my memories of warm days and keep watching the time on those sunsets.

It really will be Spring before we know it.

Mornings

Here’s a view out our living room window one recent morning.

Wow, “suddenly” January has nearly fled.   The sun now sets an hour and a half later than it was the week before Christmas.   Spring is creeping slowly in our general direction.   My foot’s feeling substantially better now and I went for my first serious walk in yesterday’s sunshine (my toe remains occasionally sore, like after that walk…but yes, we’ve been enjoying what our forecasters like to call “abundant sunshine”.  It’s very nice.), I start the new job on Monday and generally, life is pretty good.

For those of you eager for the 411, a few details.  I’ll be working in the billing department of a local medical office.   I’ve met many of my co-workers (I was invited to join them at their belated holiday staff party last weekend, which was great fun…) and they are lovely.  All indications are that I’ll be working in a productive and fun environment and I am looking forward to this new adventure.

The new position has a schedule which allows me to pursue other interests I had to forego previously and I’ve been enjoying getting into a rehearsal routine with the Chatham Chorale (my official audition is later this week, but I believe it’s more about placement within the group for range and to ensure I’m not totally lip synching…).   And last week, that was only a little bit of the culture I was soaking up, as I participated in five of the seven nights of the Opera Hell Week hosted by my lovely friend Opera Betty at Trout Towers (the actual Trout Towers, not the blog of the same name).

Opera Hell Week involved a week’s free trial of the streaming video Met Player, and seven operas projected in delightful detail (and most of the time, subtitles) on the living room wall at Trout Towers over seven nights.  I was briefly embarrassed to admit that – a few arias and episodes of Bugs Bunny to the side – opera was a big blank spot in my entertainment education, but I was eager to learn.

And what better time than the doldrums of January to try something exciting and new?!  By Friday’s production of The Barber of Seville, I was wearing tails and a black bowtie (among other things) and totally in love with Juan Diego Florez and his amazing voice.  I can’t wait til the next Opera Night…I’m in some kind of withdrawal this week.

While I’ve been able to address my own cabin fever, I’m afraid it’s been a little tougher for my Little Gray Buddy.    Here he is looking through the door onto the deck, wishing it was warmer out there (that’s the door I stained last week, actually, tho not much of a shot to show it off, really).   No doubt this would be one small issue on which he and the bluebirds are likely to find common ground.

I’m glad I planted a flowering kale in the driveway garden last autumn and here’s why.  When our temperatures rose last week and the piles of snow magically vanished in a gale of warm rain, it was nice to find something pretty and fresh looking revealed amongst the bedraggled and frost-worn mess found beneath the fence.  Nearby, there was also evidence that the blue primrose had bloomed under the snow cover, only the seedheads remaining.  Silly primrose.

My pal and I did make another attempt at a walk outside last week.   It was a bit warmer (still only mid-40s, tho) and almost all the snow had fled.  It seemed like the perfect opportunity for us to get out for a few minutes ramble around the yard, even if the spectre of the season was clearly visible in little drifts of white here and there and snow shovels at the ready.   Sadly, some sleety-rain cut short our walk, but at least we were able to get a bit of fresh air.

I have appreciated the luxury of a little free time this month, even if I can freely admit at this end of the month I’ve not been particularly productive with my time.

There’s no major progress to report on writing projects, nor a collection of drawings for photos ready for a gallery show.  I haven’t even potted up any of the sweet pea or morning glory seeds which have been waiting for my attention since December.  But I’ve been giving the apartment and my head a good sorting through, which is always helpful.   These last three weeks, it’s important to note, mark the longest I’ve gone without seeing Owen in almost a dozen years. That means this month brings a real and welcome conclusion to a chapter I’ve been trying to write an ending for this last year and a half.

On the indoor gardening front, that silly Christmas cactus is blooming still and – finally – my amaryllis bulb from last year has finally stopped teasing me and sent up a few new leaf tips.  It’s not at all the schedule I imagined for this plant, but I suppose that just helps me with that perpetual lesson of not trying to manage more than is reasonable and letting things happen as they will.

Often I end my posts with a sunset (and I did see a pretty delightful and remarkable one recently, which many of my Facebook pals may already have seen there.   I’ll post it here shortly, but not right now), but this time around, it feels more appropriate to conclude with another sunrise.  This morning’s, actually.

I always think beginnings are a good place to end, don’t you?

Cabin Fever

I know it will be a surprise to you that I’ve been impatient about healing.  I shouldn’t be, I actually have the luxury of a little time just lately…and I do seem to have banged it up pretty seriously, for it to still be so sore this week.   I don’t know what I thought; I guess that I’d be all better by now.   And I’m on the way, but you know, meanwhile there are all these sunny days that I’m not out there walking through.

It’s a good time of year for a little enforced lounging around, although I am becoming an accidental fan of more television programming than I might like.   At first, it was just a few self-indulgent episodes of Law and Order, but that’s a slippery slope to a couple of episodes of Bones, and then CSI:NY and before you know it, there’s an all-day marathon of Leverage and suddenly you’re jonesing for another episode of Southland.  Sigh.  Yes, I’ve been riding the TNT Express some lately.

But I’m not a total cable zombie either.  My dear friend Heidi sent me a box full of gardening books culled from her personal library recently.   A fan of herbal remedies, but not much of a green thumb, her books are focussed pretty tightly on herbs and herb gardens, which happens to be sort of a bare patch in my experience, so I’m glad for some new things to consider.   Especially since growing more herbs on the deck this summer was already seeming like a good idea.

And there’s all sort of other things to do on a winter’s day.

You can snuggle in with a kitty and enjoy a good book.   Or check out a movie or two you’ve been meaning to watch.   But the siren song of the outdoors always calls us back and my roomie and I find ourselves at the window, studying the comings and goings of the feathered neighbors.

There are two pair of cardinals who I’ve spotted at the feeders recently, one of whom you can see here, checking out the new deluxe bird restaurant.   It was installed in the side yard this autumn, but I’m not sure I’ve ever properly shown it off here at the blog.   It’s fun because it’s a nice big station, and on a tall pole that elevates it enough to afford us a nice view from the second floor.

Of course, there are lots of other birds who visit besides the cardinals.   Bluejays are here all the time, and regularly practicing their hawk impersonations.  All the smaller birds, chickadees, titmice and sparrows are out there almost all the time.   I hear that the bluebirds have been visiting the suet feeders every morning, but so far, we have only spotted the woodpeckers there.

We watch out the windows as the footprints and tire tracks in the snow drain and fill with shadows as the day passes.   In the same vein, we watch as the prism-born patterns of rainbows on the living room walls change throughout the day, with the rise and fall of the sun.

Sometimes we play together, my buddy and me, but as often we like to give each other a little space, but that doesn’t always work.

We’ve both been feeling a bit of cabin fever.  I’d noted how happy my buddy was to get out on the deck for a little walk about and some fresh air last week and I’ve been hoping some mild-ish weather would allow us another similar opportunity.   And then on a recent sunny afternoon, we were tired of looking out windows and at one another and Mister Purry Pants started to yell at me rather insistantly, I hitched him into the harness and led his eager self downstairs.

He could barely wait for me to be ready and seemed annoyed at waiting the extra moment while I grabbed the camera, but I had a feeling it would be a short little adventure and I didn’t want to miss it.   It turned out to be even quicker than I’d anticipated.

Sir Purr dragged me insistantly downstairs and waited on the lower steps while I opened the inside door, so he could peer out at the world.   I can’t remember if cats see in color (I think they do not, which is sad), but it must be troubling for him to look out at what is normally (from his experience peering there) a green and lush view of the world, and see only that barren white landscape.  I know how it feels for me.

But it wasn’t long before Himself was yelling again for me to open the door so we could go out and then we were on the step, he surveying the white world in each direction and not spying a single blade of grass.

There was no wind, so even though our temperature was right around freezing, I thought we might stay out for a moment or two.  Then again, I was wearing shoes and clothes.

After only the briefest of reconnaisance, not even stepping off the path to the door, my Purry Pal turned with a plaintive cry to be let back inside, where he tore up the stairs to wait at the door of the Nest.

Our adventure was done, exchanged for a couple of Whiskahs treats and a patch of late day Sunshine in the  bedroom.  Just a taste of the alternative left us happily content with the cabin fever we’d been so tired of earlier.

There’s plenty of things to do here inside.   Now that my foot’s starting to feel better (it’s my gas pedal foot and yesterday I drove for the first time in a week – still a little sore after that, but on the mend for sure), I have resumed the project of giving the whole place a room-by-room cleaning, turning my attention today to our bathroom.   I’ve been painting the old door that leads out onto the deck, so it looks little less dull than it had before.   I’ve untangled the cords of the bamboo shades, given most of the houseplants some pruning attention, begun salvaging photos from failing old photo albums, and installed new shower curtains (one with kitties on it!).   There are kitchen shelves and cabinets to be reorganized.

But I really look forward to getting out for a walk sometime soon.

Window on Summer

This is what it looks like outside.   Bright and sunny, a snow covered landscape.  Hidden patches of ice beneath the snow.

The swelling on my foot is going away, making the great big bruise along the side of my foot and big toe more visible.

I thought it was all better earlier, and so for a little while I tried doing more than just sitting around with my leg elevated, but it’s quite sore at this end of the day.   Still, I’m feeling much better than last week, and already thinking about training some morning glories and sweet peas on those silly crutches.

I’m eager to get outside and enjoy some of these daylight hours for which I am suddenly free, before I am all too soon working throughout the day again.   Patience, Grasshopper, I whisper to myself, looking out the window.   Be healed first, then move on to the future.  There’s no need to rush.

Generally, I am all for looking forward, and not back, although some of that sort of thinking is unavoidable.  In this case, I don’t think it’s unhealthy, though.   While clearing off 2009’s image files from my hard drive, I happened on some folders of photos I took at the wedding I was hired to work last June.

I’ve not shared many images from the day for a while, as they were understandably embargoed to give the bride first crack.   These are just a few detail shots that I thought you might like to warm your cold January hands over, a window on Summer if you will.

In The New Year

I returned from the Christmas travels to find that silly Christmas cactus merrily beginning to bloom for the third time in 2009.

At first, I thought it was just the pair of blossoms you see above, perhaps a couple of stragglers leftover from the blooming of this plant at December’s start.   I’ve since discovered there are more flower buds all over this eager little plant, a little reminder that the more I know, the less I know.   Always a good lesson.  And of course, more blooming is exactly the sort of inconvenience I live for.

On the same window sill, my pink Reiger Begonia is joining in the festivities, sporting so many flowers it can barely keep itself upright.

What a treat to bring the garden in to windowsills this time of year.  Outside, winds roar as they silver our neighborhood with arctic temperatures and cull all the trees for the weakest branches we find lying on the ground in the morning.   But in the living room, it’s a festival du printemps, complete with a small colony of ladybugs making the southern windows their homeland as they patrol the potted plants who live there.

The two feet of snow the Solstice Blizzard brought our way was all but vanished by my return from the Christmas revels on the 26th, so we welcomed in the New Year with a bit of rain instead, as temperatures rose briefly for us.   That we saw in the new year under cloud cover was a little disappointing, as it might’ve been nice to revel in the brilliant light of December’s Blue Moon but ah, well, that we said farewell to 2009 was enough.

*        *        *

“The object of a New Year is not that we should have a new year.

It is that we should have a new soul and a new nose; new feet, a new backbone, new ears, and new eyes.

Unless a particular man made New Year resolutions, he would make no resolutions.

Unless a man starts afresh about things, he will certainly do nothing effective.”

G.K. Chesterton

The first weekend of 2010 brought us a fresh blanket of snow, falling peacefully on and off throughout the weekend and leaving us a crisp and glittering world to explore.

With cold temperatures and wet snowing falling, though, there often is little enticement to get out there and explore that marshmallow world, especially when the recent Christmas festivities have brought new toys to play with, and  while I was focussed on the new printer/scanner/copier, my roommate  has been tearing around playing with his new stuff, too.

I know you’re probably jones-ing for a little Catsby Action, since the last post actually featured the Cousin Kitties instead of my Purry Pal, so here he is having fun with one of his new toys, an impressionistic sort of catnip mousey on an elastic.   A tether mousey, if you will.

I’ve installed it here between the door frames, where Badum has to bound back and forth over the different levels, a sort of stair-master for kitties, I figure.   He has great fun with the whole set up and the toy really wings about once he gets going.

Apologies for the quality of the photos.   Like any of us at the end of the holiday season, the Gray Catsby is a little loathe to have his photo taken again, so I had to sneakily shoot these from the next room.   He’s great fun to watch, though.   There are, perhaps, few joys which compare with watching your kid have a good time.

We even had a momentary visit out of doors, he and I, this past week, when we wandered about a little on the snowy deck.   I’m not sure he’s really up for too much outdoor exploring this time of year, but on the next reasonably nice day, I think we’ll give it a try.

Of course when we do, the camera will come along, so you can share in the fun.

Monday morning brought us our first sunshine of the new year.   The weekend’s snow had finally abated and our newly-flocked landscape was made even more beautiful with a blue winter sky and golden rays that turned ice crystals to diamond.  And this natural beauty was a comforting backdrop for the day itself.

You’ll no doubt recall there were an assortment of unnamed reasons keeping me from feeling especially merry last month, one of which was my stress about the workplace.

Like many places, the restaurant has been feeling the pinch of recent economic troubles and as business has flagged, I’ve also found myself looking toward new horizons and hoping to make changes later in the coming year.  My plans regarding what those changes might entail are still coming together, but a variety of possibilities had been identified by the year’s end.

So it wasn’t especially a surprise (and possibly a blessing) to learn on Monday that my position there had been terminated.  Typically (for me), I find my glass on this occasion to be half full.  I’m grateful to have worked with many wonderful people during my eight years there and am proud of the accomplishment of having helped them create and host some truly special and memorable occasions.   And I’m happy to carry forward many friendships from this era of my life into that silly unknown future.

Despite my positive take on it all, Monday was sort of uncertain feeling day, so I was grateful for the lovely weather and the chance to get out for at least a short walk to clear my head and begin looking to the future.

It was a beautiful afternoon and I’d have enjoyed a much longer walk, but by then I was starting to feel a little irritation in my right foot, which I didn’t yet realized I’d managed to bang up pretty well whilst carelessly kicking a build-up of snow and ice out of the fender of my car on Sunday.   (Whew.  I haven’t had a run-on sentence like that in ages.  I think I’m ready for a nap.)

I was a bit worried I’d actually broken something in my foot as it grew more painful across the week and was a bit swollen by last night…and so today included x-rays at the emergency room (mercifully almost empty!) and the news that I was just badly contused, was outfitted with a bit of painkiller and some crutches and sent on my way.  Oy, what a week I’m having.

Actually, I kid.  In many ways, I’m having a pretty great week.   Monday’s news brought to me an outpouring of love and friendship and support that was a little overwhelming.  Not surprising, because I have some pretty terrific friends.    So many blessings to count.

I’m not sharing any details just yet, but I am happy to advise you that, on the work front, things are looking up.  I’ll only say just now (so as not to jinx things) that it’s true what they say, about how when a door closes, somewhere a window opens.  I’ve had a few lovely windows open for me this week and I am looking forward to this new year stretching out before us, full of new opportunities and bright promise.

Happy New Year!

About Christmas

By the Tuesday before Christmas, most of our local roads were relatively clear of the great snowfall which arrived the previous weekend. I made local deliveries of Christmas cookies and put a few small parcels of them in the mail to a few far-flung pals. (I’d like to have sent more to a few others of you, but supplies never go as far as one hopes. Perhaps there’ll be New Years cookies this January.) Gifts were wrapped and boxed up for traveling, clothes were packed, laundry gathered. There was, naturally, much snuggling with my Purry Pal and a few gifts presented to him before my departure and then, in a whirlwind of snow, I was on the road for Mom and Dad’s in Connecticut.

It was a refreshing change to see less snow on the ground as I traveled west – so often exactly the opposite is the case when traveling for the winter holidays.

A light storm of sparkly snow flurries greeted my arrival late that afternoon and was the perfect backdrop for a visit to their local Target for a few last minute things to round out my giving, before settling in for some dinner and wrapping (and rapping…well, not rapping…) with Mom and Dad.

December 24th was bright and sunny for us there and I’m excited to tell you that, for the first time ever (that I can recall, at least), I got to see reindeer on Christmas Eve.  The city of Torrington has this place, a park, called Christmas Village, which is open every year for the month of December.  And conveniently for us, open until midnight on Christmas eve.

It’s a tradition that stretches back into the middle of the last century(1947), growing from a simple woodland park to the larger affair it has become over the years. Now there’s a Santa house, a Toy Shoppe, Nativity scene, carolers and reindeer stables.

Hardly any snow remained on the ground there in northwest Connecticut, and as we were there in the afternoon, we didn’t get to enjoy the many Christmas lights which dress the buildings and trees. As you might imagine, it wasn’t especially busy, either, with most children’s requests to Santa long since submitted and the Big Man nowhere to be seen, of course, as he rested up for the Big Flight ahead.

But Mrs. Claus was there to entertain a few last minute kids, and there were four reindeer in residence, too.

Last year, the reindeer had been forbidden, due to some change in local ordinance, but through a special CT law passed since 2008, the reindeer had returned for this Christmas season. It was a treat to see such beautiful animals, though I am always a little sad to see any animals in captivity…especially when little effort seems to have been made to keep their space as clean as they deserve.

Despite my mixed feelings on that front, this was still a fun way to pass our Christmas Eve afternoon and we even found someone to take a photo of us at the front gate.

The evening found us at Sue and Joe’s for the annual Christmas Eve feast with Joe‘s family…and feast we most certainly did, for about four hours! Ah, but with such good company, it barely seemed like an hour (although no one could possibly eat so much food in such a short time).

This was my second year for this particular holiday tradition, so I knew not to eat much throughout the earlier part of the day, and to pace myself on the first course, with its tempting meats and cheeses and pickled eggplant and artichokes and devilled eggs and tasty breads and such, since there’s a wonderful pasta, meatball and sausage dinner immediately following. Oh, and some lovely Chianti, which had us all feeling rather merry, indeed.

Just in case we’d managed not to fill some corner of our eager stretched bellies with what came before, there was a great display of cookies, cake, sweets and great coffee to follow.  Ah, heaven.  A minor Christmas miracle was noted here, when we realized that amongst all the cookies Mom, Sue and I had baked, there wasn’t a single recipe duplicate!  (And major props to my sis on the three kinds of biscotti, but especially the pistachio.)

There’s Cooper, waiting under Sue and Joe’s tree to pounce on Santa when he shows up.  After exchanging a few gifts, those festivities were winding down right around 11:30 (we’d sat down to the table at 5:00!!), and Mom and I were pleased to have just enough time to get ourselves to Midnight Mass, which is one of my favorite parts of Christmas.

Christmas morning found us barely hungry. Of course, there’s always room for coffee, which we enjoyed while Mom, Dad, Dewey-cat and I reviewed the many little gifts and treats with which dear Santa fills our stockings each year.  In case you can’t read it, Dew’s stocking says “Santa, I’ve been almost purr-fect…”

Noontime found us welcoming Sue and Joe and we sat down to an afternoon of round-robin gift opening, seasoned with great laughter, lots of love and a fresh supply of wine and cheese, while the turkey and all its fixings cooked in the kitchen.

After that great dinner was consumed, the five of us decided to try our hand at a group photo, complete with tripod (which I’d tucked along for exactly that reason) and timer photography, always fun. There’s a whole series of photos taken, as we adjusted the light in the room, turned off the flash, rearranged ourselves, answered the phone, decided to add Santa hats, found the Santa hats, shifted around a little more, and found the kitty. How excited we were to discover that the timer’s warning beeper attracted Dewey’s attention so that even he was looking in the right direction!

Finally we got the image we were hoping for, a sweet snapshot to remind us what was a truly terrific family holiday.

I’m sure they’d all join me is wishing that each one of you had a holiday to remember, as well:   Some pretty colored lights, good company, tasty food to eat and if you’ve been almost purr-fect this year, maybe a little catnip.

Wishing you comfort and joy.

Christmas Day

“The branch that bears the bright holly

The dove that rests in yonder tree

The light that shines for all to see

The peace of Christmas Day.”

The Peace Carol, Bob Beers, 1971

Good Yule

It’s funny to think that barely two weeks ago I was planting daffodils and in one short not-quite-twenty-four-hour period, our world could be completely transformed into this deep and snowy winter wonderland, but here’s how things looked as we greeted the sunny morning of the Winter Solstice.

The timing of the storm really couldn’t have been more perfect for us here, although all the folks who’d waited to do their Christmas shopping until the Last Sunday Before are likely to crankily disagree with me.   But the first flakes of the storm  didn’t appear for us until 10:30 Saturday  evening and most of the storm’s raging happened in the wee hours, when all but snow plow drivers – and lunatic bloggers who decide to stay up all night to take pictures – were  snug in bed.

But I can happily justify that, really, and I think those of you who’ve been reading along through this December might, too.   A variety of factors all came together well that day, not the least of which was a particularly successful evening at work…and the last big event there before Christmas.   So as I drove home that evening, I was feeling really very merry finally.

Which is why I was out there in the first spinning snowflakes, stringing colored lights along the porch railing and around the morning glory trellace.  And the staying up all night to take pictures was honestly as much about staying up all night to keep nearly two feet of snow from building up on a deck of already dubious strength.

In between regular trips out there to sweep things off and take pictures, though, I was also digging more Christmas decorations out of the closet to dress the nest up a little more, with icicles and other ornaments dangling from my suspended pothos vine and such.

I’ve always been fascinated with the way one unpacks memories along with the unpacking of Christmas tree ornaments, the stories of where they come from, what the ornament was meant to represent, what other things were going on the year that ornament joined the others on the tree.

Each glittering bauble is a time capsule, releasing memory into the pine-scented air.  And is that a sentimental old fool I smell, as well?  What of it.

I barely scratched the surface of my ornament collection, but I did manage to tease out a few of my favorites, and along with them some fond memories of Christmases past.  And the place looks kind of festive now, too.

To the Catsby’s momentary dismay, somewhere around 2:30 a.m. I found the videotape of White Christmas (that link takes you to the movie, but this one’s interesting reading, too)and popped that into the VCR.   I was already humming the song “Snow,” anyway, and I hadn’t seen the movie yet this holiday season.   In the last week, though, I’d found myself humming just about all the songs from the film, so I knew it wouldn’t be too much longer.

The snow just created the perfect moment for it.

There was something sort of perfect about this storm, the way it swept in and totally changed our landscape, just in time for Winter’s start the following afternoon.

That it was a sunny Solstice was a special treat, especially with all the snow on the ground.   I always feel like January and February are such dark and dismal times, but the truth is that once the 21st of December has come and gone, our moments in the sun are lengthening again, the days becoming incrementally longer.

I was happy to celebrate by actually getting to the beach Monday evening just in time for a frosty windblown sunset.   It may not sound like much of an accomplishment, but please keep in mind plowing snow out of beach parking lots is hardly a priority in the final shopping days before Christmas.

I just read the other day that birdsong actually increases and decreases with the cycles of the sun, so now that we’ve celebrated the Solstice, be sure to listen for more of that now, too.

Before we even know it, there’ll be warm breezes off the bay and barefoot frolicking in newly-blossomed gardens.

Who couldn’t smile thinking about that?

Winter’s Peace