It's...still snowing.

What? I thought I lived in central Va. Odd.

My TESL class was canceled today and tomorrow, which is fine except that it probably means they'll reschedule for the weekend after the class was supposed to be finished--you know, Valentine's day weekend, when I was supposed to be out of town, hanging out with my boyfriend and godmother and family. No good. Hopefully there'll be some other option, but none really come to mind at the moment.

The snow is beautiful, even if it is sort of unhelpful. I guess the beauty makes it worth it. I slept in, took my turn shoveling the walkways, walked the dogs with Chloe. Our neighbors were out too, so they walked with us a while. Chloe and I made rolls while listening to Out Of The Blue Radio Review; Chloe made chocolate sauce for the ice cream we all ate after dinner while we played Apples to Apples. My father at first insisted that he didn't want to play, because he is quadriplegic and can't use his hands. But we set up a tray to hold his cards so that he could point to the one he wanted to put down, and he ended up really liking the game. Neither he nor my mother had ever played, and they both loved it. Small victories like that, I don't know, make me want to cry. Like the card-tray being a success, I mean. It's come to a point now (as my father's condition is a degenerative one) where there isn't much that he can do beyond talk and read and watch television, and talking can only last so long, because his voice has become very weak. Finding that he can play a game nearly unassisted is a really great thing.

After dinner I read some poems to my mom and Chloe, and after the first two (The Jabberwocky and The Walrus and the Carpenter--not all were Lewis Carroll though, I promise) my dad went to read his book. Chloe and my mom have both passed out on the couches in the living room in front of the fire, as they sometimes do. Miley and Little Bit (both dogs, neither of which we named) are asleep in here as well, and the rolls have just come out of the oven.

Snow: what to wear.

I was out shoveling snow in my sister's Ugg boots (which, by the way, fit me better than they fit her) and no socks, and I need some Ugg boots. My feet were so unbelievably not cold that it didn't even occur to me that they might get cold until I came inside and remembered that I hadn't even been wearing socks, and my feet were completely 100% toasty warm the entire time I was out shoveling snow that came up nearly to my knees.

Resigned

Breakfast at noontime on a snow day of spaghetti and graham cracker ice cream, and watching puffy little song birds and grey bluejays and gigantic grackals and cardinals like flame hop over and peck into the marriage of seeds we've left for them under our snow-buried lawn furniture, and on our front porch.

Weather

Wednesday it was in the 60's. Today we're having a major snowstorm. Again. We already have, at noon, at least as much snow as we got in the last snowstorm, and the snow doesn't show any signs of letting up before 1 am.

a mostly unedited brief freewrite. (notepad is oh so my friend.)

I just want to write. I don't have a story to tell. I just want to write bec ause I love the act of writing. I love words, I love moving my fingers over a keyboard. I love words. Where I get stuck is when I feel like I have to write something good, something worth reading. when I step underneath all this pressure and try to shoulder it. "Oh! that was so beautiful! I must write something equally beautiful about it!"

and that's all wrong. that's not the right way, the right thing, not the way to think. and certainly not the right way to write something good.

ALSO, when I think of something good, the thing to do is not to think further (I mean that part is, but this next part is not) and then...nothing. and then not go write it down. forget all the graceful phrasing about haloes and love makes beauty and god and the sun and energy and beauty are all the same but not the same. forget the words about the smell of the tree and the rough ivy clinging to the bark. about the tree's acceptance. go play on facebook instead, and forget the things you love. ugh.

100th post zomg!

Did I ever mention that I love Penny Arcade?


Also, overheard in my text message inbox:

me: I just stepped on my own foot and nearly fell down the stairs.
Jack: You have to watch those feet. They can be tricky little devils.

Quotes thieved from nateshorb, and other things.

Denison Witmer sings, "Today I feel a part of something bigger than myself, a raindrop in the sea, a book between books on the shelf."

Jesus Christ says, "I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life."

Aaron Weiss writes, "Six of my closest friends dig up the ground, all of my accomplishments gently lowered down...Grape on the vine, why not be crushed to make wine?"

James 4:14 says, "Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes."

Nateshorb blogs,
"No snowflake is perfect. Each one seems to have a blemish of some sort. All a bit flawed.

"Snowflakes don't live a very long life.

"And they don't do much good on their own.

"Yes, this is where my mind started wandering. Because what snowflake has ever canceled school all by itself? What good is just one snowflake? Nice to look at in a microscopic photograph, sure, but how many snowflakes does it take to coat the trees in a serene landscape? What snowflake has ever caused a blizzard on its own? As unique and special as a snowflake is, if it wants to amount to anything, it must give itself up to the greater cause. We can give everyone warm fuzzies by telling kids over and over how unique and special they are, but the fact of the matter is, if we want to amount to anything, we must do the same."



Today wasn't the best for me, but as sometimes happens, my family made it better. Work ended on a not-so-great note, and I've been feeling pretty fragile. David's been feeling like shit and that's hard for me as well. I am tired in every sense of the word that comes to mind at the moment. Tired, tired. Today I wrote that I felt like my brain was caving in, like the air was thinning out. That I knew I should fight it but I just wanted to let my knees buckle. But I know I have to stay afloat, and I have to keep breathing.
By the time I walked in the door of my house, I just wanted to cry. I still do, a little. But here is why I am thankful for living with my parents: my family saves me. Chloe saves me. My mother and father, they save me. Sometimes Jack stops by and he saves me, too. It's love, I guess. It's definitely laughter and it's every smile, and every loving acceptance. And laughter. And love. They make the world warmer.