Posted by Heather on Jan 20, 2009 in
gratitude I have a faint memory of peering through the windows in my second grade classroom and watching snow fall, it must have been 1986. Three years later we woke to snow for Christmas. I remember on other occasions watching the thermometer, hoping and praying for snow. There was an ice storm that froze the pines bending them into unnatural poses and snapping limbs.
In 1999 I moved to St. Paul, I eagerly anticipated that first snow. I later attended my first sledding party in jeans and thin leather boots and cried on the way home as my feet slowly and painfully thawed. My second winter someone was kind enough to educate me on the joy of thermal underwear. It may not be sexy, but it has an appeal of another kind.
April 15, 2002 I cried and cursed the four inches of snow on the ground and in March of 2004 I watched Spring in fastforward as we drove 1200 miles with all of our possessions to settle in this warmer land.
Today heavy clouds hang low and the local news is abuzz with the possibility of flurries. As for me, I’m just thankful if it does snow it won’t linger.
Posted by Heather on Mar 16, 2008 in
gratitude I just wanted to post and let everyone know we are OK and did not suffer any damage in last night’s storm.
Posted by Heather on Feb 21, 2008 in
gratitude At this very moment, these are the things I’m thankful for.
- Health.
- Friends who get excited about the same things as me – Jared, Eugene, and Jason
- Authors who can take me so far from here and now. Charles de Lint, Robin McKinley, and Terry Pratchett
- Tulip trees in bloom.
- A little boy, who experiences a brief, first taste of freedom outside alone and brings in a handful of “pretty flowers” for me.
- The companionship of this coming summer.
Posted by Heather on Feb 18, 2008 in
gratitude Hopefully this will be the last of my navel gazing posts; although at this point it is an interesting blend of deep blues fading to green and sickly yellow.
Last night I was lying in bed attempting to fall asleep. Notice I said attempting to fall asleep, as in I did not crash into bed exhausted. I have not had an evening where I was wide awake an energized in a very long time. I suspect it may have even been before becoming pregnant with Mark. That is a long, long time to be tired. I haven’t always had bone deep exhaustion, there have been brief periods of respite, but they have been short in duration over the past two years.
As I thought about the book I had been reading I was struck with the realization that my thoughts were clearer and sharper than they have been in a long time. Have you ever cleaned a long neglected windshield and been amazed with the renewed clarity? This was internal, but no less striking. I am amazed and very, very thankful.
Posted by Heather on Dec 23, 2007 in
gratitude I may or may not be back over the next few days. If not, I want to wish everyone a merry Christmas.
I know things have been quiet, but how much can I write about the grocery store, the never ending cookie project, and trying to make WordPress cooperate as I work to organize Home Ec 101.
Speaking of the grocery store, yesterday I jokingly chastised a familiar looking man for not saying hello, only to realize he was not who I thought. Subsequently I had to face him on each and every aisle, even after breaking the accepted pattern. By doing so, he knew I was attempting to avoid further contact, yet he insisted on pulling in behind me in the check out line. Doesn’t he know when someone apologizes for a mild social blunder they should be left alone? This is not time for further chatter. This continued into the parking lot and the returning of carts.
Apparently having ham hocks in the cart calls for a closer inspection of contents. My years in Minnesota gave me a great appreciation for the ability to buy a bottle of wine at the grocery store. Occasionally I buy a bottle just because I can, a small celebration of life’s pleasures. I hated going to the sketchy liquor store and was to cheap for the other one. Perhaps that was the cause of the eyebrow raising. My pants were zipped and nothing was in my teeth; I checked.
It is a day for naps. There are beans simmering on the stove, with a mess of collards waiting to be fixed. The sky is grey and the tree in the corner is quietly shining sparkles of white light beneath strands of cranberries and stars of gold. Tomorrow begins the holiday, but I’m happy in this moment. These are the good old days and I’m thankful to be aware.
Thank you all for being a part of my life.
Posted by Heather on Nov 25, 2007 in
gratitude A quiet house.
A glass of wine.
A total blank.
A hundred things have irked me in the past week.
A hundred more have made me grin.
I’m becoming comfortable in myself. It is a process, a sloughing off of the old perception and occasional feelings of amazement as I catch glimpses of my reflection. It certainly isn’t all pretty, there are stretchmarks, scars, and wounded feelings, but this person stands a little straighter and her jaw is set a little firmer. I think I like her and I hope she stays for awhile.
Posted by Heather on Sep 12, 2007 in
general frustration,
gratitude,
mishaps My car is dying. It has well over one hundred fifty thousand miles on it, but it’s still depressing. It’s not a two hundred dollar rattle I’m hearing, it’s a four thousand dollar engine knock.
I had to pull over six times on the way home from my mom’s yesterday.
We’re going to replace the engine, the rest of the car is fine and it’s the most cost effective choice. I would love to have something more gas efficient, but with three car seats for the next however many years, it’s not in the cars. I swear they are going to keep kids in car seats until they can get their permits. What a pain in the butt.
On a very good note, I found my wedding ring. It had been missing for about six months after a certain grubby child swiped it off the bathroom counter while I was in the shower. Said child must have crawled into my bed to play with it where it fell behind the mattresses and into the crevice between the carpet and the wall.
