Just Cuz

You know what's surprising?  

52 degrees in February, that's what.  

And particularly astonishing when it was totally and completely snowing yesterday---when we were at the library for art class, and I sat there with the iPad at the children's table by the picture books, cranking out a couple of work articles while Claire made friends with people, played with these magnetic building blocks at a table by the huge wall of windows, and brought me books that she wanted to take home.  I looked up periodically from the screen and watched fat, lush flakes coming down.  

By 5:00 p.m., as I was home doing final proofs on some articles and submitting them to a folder in Dropbox, I looked up again, this time from the schoolroom.  My house faces north, and it's nestled right close to an impressive mountain face.  And as the sun was heading west, readying itself for sleep on this side of the world, it took my breath away.  I saw naked branches against a clear cerulean sky, interrupted only occasionally by puffy clouds, and my mountain was golden.

This afternoon I ran in capris and a t-shirt, and felt warm even then.  And when I came home, this gal of mine headed out with me for another mile.  

She has such a cute little body and her cropped hair is something I'm loving lately, too.  She told me, randomly, as we ran, that she thought that sometimes we help people without even meaning to.  She continued by saying that she thinks that God actually does this, helps us, by other people.  I don't know what prompted that thought, but I thought it was an afternoon blessing.

The kids were gone tonight with their dad.  I spent the couple of hours before he arrived folding a mountain of laundry in my room, sorting it into neat piles I could wrap my mind around.  I put it all away, hauled a basket upstairs full of kitchen towels and clothes to hang in the closet.  I was in my favorite running pants and a comfy sweater, my hair in a top bob on my head, no makeup.  And once they were gone, I made myself a sandwich and curled up on my bed to watch a movie.  About halfway through, I tried to rewind to watch a part that I thought was funny and it went fuzzy when I pressed play again.  Try as I might, including restarting, it just wasn't happy with pressing play once you had paused or skipped ahead or behind.  So, I started it over (after I'd watched an hour), and while I waited for it to get back where I had been, I worked.  Found an article I hadn't proofed from last weekend.  

Grabbed some dark chocolate, filled my glass a couple times with pebble ice and water, and gave it a last run through before submitting it.  Then, I sat here, snuggled in my down comforter, brainstorming what I'll write about next week: ice wine (sounds yummy, no?), maybe an article on the Grand Canyon or Ground Zero, best apps to use for business, or new hotel trends.  Not sure what I'll actually do, but I have to start somewhere.

And then I finished this movie ("Words and Pictures") that I ended up liking, probably because it made me think about the impact of art and words.  And it inspired me, and offered up this poem for the taking, which I searched and found once the movie was over:

WHO ARE YOU?

I am a small poem
On a page with room
For another.

Share with me
This white field,
Wide as an acre
Of snow, clear
But for these tiny
Markings like the
Steps of a bird.
Come.  Now.

This is the trough
Of the wave, the
Seconds after
Lightning, thin
Slice of silence
As music ends,
The freeze before
The melting.  Hurry.

Lie down beside me.
Make angels.  Make devils.
Make who you are.


Pretty decent, I thought.  In any case, it carried me for tonight, so I'll take it.