“I don’t have all the kinks worked out yet, but I know the dawn when I see it, coming thru a skylight & the magic of getting up early, in the dark. I sense the snow before I turn onto my stomach in bed, to peer thru the window at the yard, buried this morning under a foot of white. It’s nice to have some land rising above me, and some land falling away, below. For all practical purposes, its the national forest informing my spatial orientation to the east, as the sun struggles to make its way over. My sunrise is indirect: lighting yurt, barn, tree limbs and the air itself, before literally lifting above the dark forest. I keep a light on, always, an electric bulb downstairs, not as romantic as a natural flame, but symbolically serving as a bulwark against getting too lost. For I do tend to fall between the cracks, I know this to be true, and I hold myself responsible for each time it happens, hugging my karma to me, like a well worn, tattered robe. Nothing, no nothing, is accidental. When winter finally breezes in on heavy, slippery fluff, creating chaos, we can’t pretend we were surprised, or do just to make conversation. At the dump, around 8:30 am, the one guy is already smoking, as he stands to supervise what we throw in the recycling. I enjoy catching a whiff of it. It blends with how I feel. Up early, beating out those who are still digging out, having gotten a head start on the day. The empty boxes, ironically from new skylights recently installed, take time to pull out of the truck bed, I didn’t shovel. I was worried they might blow out on the drive, so I pushed them sideways in. Then a couple bags, mostly construction trash, as a topper. A big Chevy in 4 wheel drive makes these weather-worthy Saturday mornings feel grand. After that, I’d hoped to get coffee & fresh banana bread, at a road-side set of gas pumps & grocery. Who can blame them for staying closed. I had to go further. Someone had kittens at the other gas station, and was showing them off to someone else, over by the muffins. You know how people are when they get to hold kittens. I ignored it, because I love animals too much and have enough in my house as it is. So I went to the post office since I’d had to go that far, and found that I had a claw foot tub drain arrived, and another check for landscaping. Two catalogs of stuff too expensive for me to buy, but fun to look at, in the right mood. I tossed them. I’ll make my own wreath, and enjoy my own flowering houseplants; no need for more. More, more, more. Isn’t that how we tend to view things? We need more time, more love, more easy cash. I sure do, no offense to anyone who’s paid me, given me space or loved me. Yet, being only half plowed out, by a plow fellow I think had done okay last year, when my daughter lived here and her boyfriend liked to shovel and ski, alternately, and it was sport to them, being young, now I’m betwixt the right amount of snow removal and no removal, an awkward shake. With a hydraulic lift in the driveway, and a cabin-sized, tarped over block of Rockwool insulation, and three cords of seasoned wood with no where to stack it, plus newly delivered lumber where one of those wood sheds should have been by now (no offense to anyone who didn’t have ten arms to build it while doing every other damn thing around here), I can say that my shoveling was a drop in the bucket. Though I admit, I’m quite a committed shoveler, and pulled back a foot of heavy snow from the garage doors and made paths between buildings. Coming in with wet pants, then stoking the wood stove, then eventually, heading out again. The last time, with a pail of hot water, sponges and masonry trowels, to grout a tumbled bluestone hearth, recently cut and set for me by another local magician. I’ll always treasure these long hours lying on cardboard, trying not to make too much of a mess. Audio book, maybe some Icelandic detective story, to engross my fidgety mind, while my hands play in goop, plying tools. A sponge to deal with cleaning the stone, and my fingers, as needed, to smooth the wet thin-set. The old Rinnai heater, blows on and off. The clouds part, and a quick sun blasts in, then disappears. I need other work to pay the bills, but for now, as cold weather settles in, I’m just happy to be making useful things that will last.”
