I know, I know. As the darling Liz,* she of the near daily posting, pointed out in my last series of comments, I kinda abandoned you there. I really didn’t mean too. I had a post all planned for last Friday (which would have been titled Fashionista Friday) which would have featured pictures of my fancy new boots, but as it turns out, it’s kinda hard to take pictures of boots whilst you are actually wearing them. And whilst there is a mini blizzard going on outside your door, making the midwinter light that much dimmer. I did come up with another plan for the boot shoot, but by then I was outta time and I had to book it to Toronto to meet the hubby and some friends for dinner. Of course we picked the coldest, snowy-iest, windy-est day of the year to do that and the streets were a mess and the train was running a good 30 minutes late … but it was an adventure. And I got plastic animals in my drink so it’s all good. Saturday, I was gonna post, but somehow just couldn’t summon the energy. I blame the plastic animals. And then Sunday… well, even God rests on Sundays so….
And somehow now it’s Wednesday. Whirlwind workaday wednesday. Things are really beginning to snowball workwise ’round here. I’ve got so much on the go, so many deadlines to meet. February is going to be super busy and likely kinda quiet around the blog. I hope to get in here and update at least once a week though, so don’t abandon me completely!!!
*a-HA! I note with a kind of snide, exuberant triumph that even Liz, good faithful always with the posting Liz, is too busy to blog these days! Something in the air?!!
heheh. Total departure today, but somehow it aptly applies to my day which was fun and zippy and light. This is for my dear friend Otter. . She’s all like super scientist-y and stuff. I turned to her page and saw this image of her little burrito boy and burst out laughing. Look at his expression of intrepid derring do! It’s so Buzz Lightyear! So Paige… I have no idea who has been stealing your IQ points, but if you’re wondering who has been swiping your photos… well. um. guilty.
ironically, as soon as I typed in that bit about no distractions and the hearty hum of my computer? The power in the house crashed (for reasons unknown to me right now but probably having to do with tempting fate), everything snapping off abruptly, frightening me outta my skin. whoa. major hiccup! Fortunately I had just saved and when the power came back on ten minutes later, I just picked up where I had left off. oh, and has anyone noticed that it’s all 1 2 3 today, the date being o1/23 ?! things like that thrill me a little bit. I always get a little happy leap in my belly when I glance at the clock and it says 12:34 … it’s like all is right with the world, everything is perfectly aligned in that moment and I feel unreasonably reassured. And exceedingly clever for noticing in the first place.
Monday morning, the sky wept icy tears into the break of day and glazed my world with a slick veneer of glittering ice. In the last three days, I have taken well over 400 photos and not one of them accurately captures the magic left behind. The park is full of glimmers and twinkles and dazzles. Absolutely everything is fluted in ice, every blade, every branch, every berry. Some times it appears roundly, soundly beaded. Other times serrated, branches lined with crystal viper teeth. Glittering straws of glass encase every shaft of winter wheat, bubbles encapsulate tiny leaves. The trees are dripping like chandeliers, coated over with streams of tinsel. It’s a fairy tale and it leaves me breathless.
As Finn and I carefully pick our way along the path, it shimmers and tilts in the most magical way. It’s the shimmer, the tilt, the phenomenon of light that I can’t manage to snap my shutter around. It completely eludes the camera lens. And after a while, the endless stream of adjectives stringing themselves across my brain slowly begin to tumble into silence. None of the words are adequate. The sun breaks from the clouds for a moment and I feel like a character in an English children’s book, transported into some magic realm inhabited by ice queens and winter pixies and stitched all over with silver. Hello, January.
Hello and no… despite evidence to the contrary, I have not fallen off the edge of the earth. Although I was nearly devoured by wolves earlier today. And by wolves, i mean coyotes and by nearly devoured I mean glared at and generally ignored, but you know, close enough.
Such a strange winterless winter we are having here. No snow, the temperature rarely dipping below freezing, the skies constantly shifting from azure and spring-like to wet and wild to mopey and grey. The grey predominates. The local news is rife with reports of bewildered beasties burning off their winter fat stores much too soon, of apple blossoms bursting forth in January, warnings about the rampant breeding of mice and rats and wasps.
Today, the park seemed full of great anticipation, as if it was about to storm. But only the flimsiest of flurries is forecast for tonight. The possibility of real snow is no where to be found. Finny and I were wandering about looking for deer as is pretty much a daily habit. I was bent down in a nest of leathery oak leaves, inspecting the parchment carcass of something big and beetleshaped (do beetles molt? It was the strangest thing… completely hollow, dry and brittle, like a husk made of onion skins, a perfectly articulated mould of a fat round beetle) when Finny made a sudden dash toward the yellow tipped shrubs. I stood up expecting to see the white brush of deer tail hopping delicately but instead I caught the sinister sooty shape of a large coyote evaporating into the scrub.
I hissed Finny’s name and she wheeled around immediately, coming instantly to my side. I leashed her up and we stood there, panting slightly, listening to the saber rattle of skeletal trees in the wind. Another shadow slithered through the saplings to my left, not far away, and we saw two more coyotes eyeing us with a kind of bored yellow menace. One paused, blinked and scratched itself against a tree trunk. The other smacked its lips, looked away, and crouched low, sniffing the air. Then they both slunk away, weaving soundlessly between the narrow saplings. As if disappointed. As if they found us excruciatingly dull.
I wasn’t really scared, but the sight of them made my heart pound faster. I wonder if we had interrupted them in the midst of a hunt. I wonder where they live and whether they have a den nearby. I wonder if the pungent, musky-urine smell stinging in the air was a scent they had deliberately left behind to mark their territory. Or perhaps that’s the smell of deer? I don’t know, but it was thrilling.
You’re probably hoping the events that prevented me from updating this journal were/are thrilling too, but sorry to say, you’d be wrong. The new year has begun slowly for me. I feel as if I have just woken from a long slumber, like I’m still rubbing my eyes and blinking mutely, feeling around in the not quite light of it for what I’m going to wear. December was so incredibly busy and full and the holidays clipped by at such tremendous speed, that the moment my parents left, the three of us collapsed on the bed and essentially didn’t move for three whole days. It was lovely and dreadfully indulgent and I devoured two mighty tomes of literature (Fingersmith by Sarah Waters which is a thumping great read, all dark and gothic and teeming with dangerous Victorian characters plus I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith which was delicious and wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, all light and crisp and golden and is now one of my all time fave books EVAH!) and consumed all things chocolate and sinful and about forty bowls of oatmeal with raisins. When on the third day, I rose again… my limbs felt creaky and heavy with disuse.
Gearing up again has been an effort. My motor is revving, but I’m still in the driveway, still rooting around in the glove compartment for the map, still trying to determine my route. But I feel good about 2007. I feel completely confident that wherever it takes me, it will be exactly where I want to be.
So here’s me waving a turqoise scarf out the window, yelling “Happy New Year, my lovelies!” and not caring how stupid that sounds nine days into it!