We’re working hard at being without power or snowed in or iced over for almost three weeks now. I’m taking extra Vitamin D and B12 and thinking about the word zen as I wonder if you can hear the money being sucked into the vacuum as we try to dig out from Lego towers and Rainbow Looms.
A funny thing happens on the way to insanity.
As you huff and puff and light candles for the kids’ bath that was filled just as the power snapped off, you smile at the day before when you were in charge of keeping the house from freezing and prepared to battle a chipmunk with the fireplace shovel (no squishing just scooping up and planting him outside, if he came through the wall as you envisioned).
As you fend off fumes and wonder why no one listened when you said “DON’T use that bathroom!” you miss the flickering of the candles during yesterday’s bath and floundering for pajamas as your husband hooked up the generator.
As your phone dies for the ten millionth time without a charger you laugh hysterically about your husband’s tackling of un-useable bathroom and thank God he was home to do it.
As you finish your third book over Christmas break you sort of wish your phone would lose power again and it was still that first night when you didn’t have a generator yet and everyone was piled in front of the fireplace to sleep because your back has already forgotten about the unforgiving floor and your face can’t remember the four year-old foot threatening to poke out your eyeball at 4 am.
You shuffle through the days with industrial-fluff slippers and realize it could be better and worse and you try to figure out how to spill a little of the pretty view of yesterday into the monotony of today.
If you tip the glass just right the colors bleed into this moment. Under the blankets and whines and flickering lights, everything is pretty good and not too bad.
And you don’t even need to wait for tomorrow to see it.
P.S. I’m speaking at a blog conference! You can visit Blog U to learn all about it. I would love to see you there!
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julie gardner says
I just read your question on Facebook about how to combat writer’s funk.
But if this is funk? I say let it roll.
Your words, as always, are like music on my screen.
Aww, thank you. I wrote this on a day that I just kept writing through my funk. Maybe I need to keep doing that and not worry so much about what happens after I hit publish.
Oh, brrrr…. Do stay warm, momma. Thinking about you and your family.
But this: “If you tip the glass just right the colors bleed into this moment” is ever so lovely. I love the way you write. XOXO
*shakes frozen wine glass held with a frostbitten hand from across the way
Isn’t it crazy? I can’t even believe this winter so far and it’s only the beginning.
I love that photo. Vitamin D is saving me this Winter! Trying to go for a walk everyday, too. “The colors bleed right into this moment.” I want to do more of that kindof looking at the present this year. BlogU sounds AMAZING and will hopefully be in the cards someday.
Chris Carter says
Oh gosh- it is just amazing that you can write such beautiful things when all I would want to do is move into a hotel…
Lovely. Just lovely.
I am thinking about going to Blog U… not sure of the funding yet- so not sure at all. BUT- if I do, I would LOVE to see you speak as I’m sure it would be worth it all!!!
Thank you so much Chris. I would love to see you at Blog U!
Varda (Squashedmom) says
Just beautiful. Thank you. Stay warm, my friend.
You are a trouper! That is a long time without power!
Just bought my ticket for BlogU! Can’t wait!
This read like poetry. I envy talent that can take all this cold cabin fever crazy, sometimes scariness and make it something beautiful. I’m working on it.
Three weeks without power! Oh my!! Your family is such a trooper.
Greta @gfunkified says
That is a LONG time to be without power or snowed in or iced over. Holy moley. I do hope that today is as good as tomorrow is better than yesterday and everyone remains sane.