take two

I went for a walk last night in the snow. it was so lovely; the streets were quiet but for a few cars. other neighbors with similar intentions walked on nearby sidewalks.



the snow clung to my hair, my glasses, the tassels on either side of my hat. good, thick, wet snow, perfect for snowballs, perfect for snowmen. it blanketed the streets and muffled everything, coating the branches in white. I did laps around my neighborhood, looking at all the trees, at the bright, snowy, pink-lit sky. I caught snowflakes on my tongue.







at the bus stop on the corner, I built a tiny snowman, knee-high, to be a friend to the people waiting. I stripped branches off a nearby tree. he has a mutant left arm but I like him just the same.



then I circled the neighborhood, looking for just the right house: darkened windows, no outside lights, no one on the street nearby. when I found it, I built an even tinier snowman, just maybe eight inches tall, in the center of their driveway.

I came across my own footsteps on the block just past mine; for awhile I walked inside them, and then decided to keep myself company, walking next to them instead.

when I finally came in an hour later, I took down my hood and a huge mound of snow fell from the collar of my jacket. my hat and gloves were soaked. I hung all the wet clothes in the bathroom, like when I was a kid, and slipped back into my pajamas. it was nearly midnight. the house was dark except for the light above the stove. outside, a lone bus went by. it was the best thing, all of it.

this morning, the rain was back.

snow-less day

five minutes before my alarm this morning, on its own pre-ordained schedule, the coffeepot in the kitchen began to brew. unaccustomed to the sound, I lay in bed wondering where it was coming from before I finally smelled the answer. showered and blow-dryed, I checked my phone to discover that the office was closed for snow. what snow? there was no snow, but nevertheless I did a very real happy dance in my bedroom before re-donning my pajamas -- a ridiculous pair of pink leggings, lately -- and curling up on the chaise with my kindle and a coffee.



an occasional flake went by.

from my fuzzy blanket nest, I read many more chapters of a clash of kings (but still appear to not have made a dent). I drank three cups of coffee. I wrote a letter. I got up and dutifully loaded the dishwasher, made a salad, hard boiled some eggs. I took out the trash. I made a cup of tea, fielded a phone call, picked at my nail polish. if it weren't for my horrific chest cold, I would have gone for a run.

all day it did not snow. I ran to pick up a headphone adapter for our conductor. I went to the office, where rehearsal was in progress despite the office being closed, and dropped off the adapter and a latte for our stage manager. I had a doctor's appointment. I put on a bunch of sweatshirts and fed the horses. it misted cold rain and I booked it out of there in a hurry, fearful that the damp would turn to ice.

now: it's snowing. I say that to you in a conspiratorial whisper. I stand giddy at the window and press my face to the glass. big fat flakes come down overhead. it has a certain way of making all the world seem magical, doesn't it? even after all those snowy years in syracuse, I still feel full of wonder.

lately

• listening to hey jude on repeat
• clutching an assortment of objects in my hand while I sleep
• throwing my clothes on the floor because there's no time to pick anything up
• making haircut appointments and then canceling them because I'm not sure I want to cut my hair?
• finally not feeling guilty on nights when I don't ride, because danielle is out there riding on those nights
• endlessly reading a clash of kings because it GOES ON FOREVER
• not bothering to change into barn-friendly attire when I feed the horses at night, because I feel that coming home with hay flecked around the hem of my dress reflects my inner nature somehow
• imagining complicated blanket forts
• never hydrating enough, ever ever ever
• staying late at work, and running late night errands, and staying at the barn until 10 PM, because suddenly I realize that being thirty and single means that I get to do whatever I want with my time
• doing back-end work on two new blogs, because apparently the two I already run aren't enough?
• suffering endlessly from excruciating hip tightness, knee pain, and absolutely murderous back pain
• changing my marathon hopes to half-marathon hopes
• discovering that when you're surrounded by the right people, this struggle against pain and injury and dashed running plans, while still disappointing, is also completely manageable and okay
• waiting for spring. is it here yet?

I am so, so tired. so very tired. exhausted to the bone. things are already very busy. I'm not complaining. I'm just tired.

on saturday, my horse sent her younger half-leaser to the hospital. in an ambulance. on a backboard. she'd been bucked off again. maybe you can imagine my frustration and worry; I paced around all afternoon.

I rode her sunday morning, prepared to have a serious discussion with her. of course, as is always the case, she was a nearly perfect angel.


her high-alert face, which sometimes precedes a twenty-foot teleport across the ring

we rode for ninety minutes. she was hot but cooperative. I popped her once with my dressage whip, lightly, because she had blown through my outside leg at the canter. then she had a minor, momentary explosion -- the only moment of bad behavior.

so, there's that.

yesterday was the company holiday party. I am on the planning committee; we've been planning for months. I worked almost exclusively on the party on both monday and yesterday. I got to the office early and stayed late.

the theme this year was 'game night.' we hosted jeopardy, set up the ping pong table, put up the projector and played just dance on the wii, set up a 9-hole mini golf course through the office, which included a beer cart at the halfway point (just before the music library). there was blackjack and a raffle, a ms. pacman game cabinet, board games.

a lot of us, not in collusion with one another, came as clue characters.


there were two peacocks. perhaps we could have been sad at having worn the SAME PROM DRESS, but instead we did this.

peacock v. peacock:












unfortunately I'm pretty sure there is not a single good photo of my costume, which took me two days to make and included eight yards of tulle and a flurry of felt peacock feathers. I lost the costume contest by a nose to a giant chicken holding a slingshot (angry bird). to be fair, his costume was hilarious AND he kept it on all night. won fair and square. birds = rule.

speaking of:


all my people are larger bodies than mine, with voices gentle and meaningless, like the voices of sleeping birds.
-- james agee