Tuesday, January 17, 2012

January 17, 2012

It is exactly 5:04pm. Dinner is almost ready. I’m making garbanzo soup… And I have noticed that outside my kitchen window is still daylight. This is good; this is very good. The sun’s arc has began growing longer and higher in the sky; which means, days are lengthening—we’re walking towards something marvelous, and in case I forget (I tent to do that often), I have discovered that all I have to do is be reminded that we are just about 63 days away from spring… yes, spring! And all these many words just to say that?

Why do I go round and round words?—like a moth irrevocably drawn to a flame. Yes, I love words; all those silent consonants, words that can either be interpreted in English while spoken in Spanish or vise versa; words that came straight to English from Medieval Latin—go figure that one… and then there are long words, short words; too complicated words and words that mean nothing, and when you use them you’re pretty much guaranteed to end all conversation and, most probably, scare off a few readers from my blog. But your options are unlimited. Does this make sense? No sense at all? I understand.

We are expecting a cold front tonight; dropping to a chilly 17 degrees by early morning. I’m not looking forward to it—chilly temperatures that make your face so numbed you can’t hardly tell your nose is dripping… drip drip—winter bitter winter biting, but inside is very inviting! ;)

And I have visions of a cottage softly illuminated by the twinkling light of candles, a light snow is falling outside; a warm fire inside, the children are nestled all snug in their beds, heated blankets, wool socks and furry friends—visions of winter coziness.

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