It's still snowing. We had over two feet of snow that started last Friday and finally stopped on Saturday late afternoon. It started snowing again yesterday and this morning I woke up to see it snowing sideways in high wind. The storm warning is in effect until 7pm!

The roads are narrow with high frozen jersey walls of snow. The parking lots have whole mountain ranges, some with shopping carts plowed into them. The grocery stores have big gaps on the shelves, having not received all their shipments and everyone stocking up for the additional 10-20 inches we're getting now.







You would think that I would have gotten more work done: finished the articles I'm working on, begun chapter two of my ghostwriting contract, posted a new blog. But I've been cooking, picking up hats and boots, rubbing sore shovelers' backs, watching movies, playing Scrabble, doing laundry, restocking my fridge, drinking wine, and visiting with neighbors and friends on the phone. I have to get busy!

I'm not even sure what day it is. They're all blurring together into white.

My youngest daughter and a few of her friends worked on this wintry village. They built an indoor fort in front of the basement tv. They also set up a shelter on the front porch for any stranded kitties that might need shelter. (No takers so far as I can see.)

Today I'm going to make everyone clean their room. We're not going anywhere. I'm so grateful we have plenty of supplies and we still have power (knocking on wood.)

I am sipping my glass of champagne that I toasted with my daughter to President Barack Obama, the skin on my cheeks tight from the salt of my tears.

I have always been moved to tears by the song "My Country Tis of Thee" since I saw and heard the song sung in the movie "Glory" by a chorus of black children. That context changes the meaning of "Land where our fathers died." So when Aretha Franklin sang those words, my tears began to flow. My daughter said she expected her to sing "Respect." That might have been good too.

And when the final benediction began with the last verse of "Lift Every Voice and Sing," the words fresh in my mind from church two days ago, the import of the moment drew my tears again.

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, Thou who has brought us thus far on our way; Thou who hast by thy might led us into the light; keep us forever in the path, we pray.


Obama said
On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.
I feel sad for those who didn't celebrate this moment, who harbor fear, discord, resentment and apathy.

I am filled with hope, bordered by worry.

I thought poet laureate Elizabeth Alexander spoke my feelings with grace:

What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.

I am fortunate to usually be home when my kids are getting ready for school and when they come home. However, I am starting to work more now that school is in session. Earlier this week I had an early morning, leaving my 13 year old son to get himself off to 8th grade. When I returned, I found this note, left in the mess of the dining room table.

Mom I left for school
love you a lot and I'm hugging
you in my brain
love your son

Isn't that just adorable?


Lest you think he is just a softie, he has been studying up for us on surviving a zombie attack. I am randomly getting advice such as this:

Mom, if there is ever a class 1A zombie attack, the best thing to do is go upstairs and then destroy the stairs behind you.
Also acid works.

I told him my plan was to stick with him if such a calamity occurred.

It poured like crazy this morning and my basement didn't flood. Yippee!