A Tangled Web

Think you have a bad commute? Look at this one in Moscow. Thanks to Dark Roasted Blend for this and lots of other interesting things.

Tootsie Rolls!

Pause a moment to recognize the Tootsie Roll - first sold on this day in 1896!

May the LaForge be with You!

Happy Birthday to Geordi LaForge, February 16, 2335.

Snow Day

I had my first snow day yesterday since I was in - probably junior high school. Everyone has tales about skidding home, shoveling out, being delayed. I heard my plow man come by about 3 in the afternoon. I was happy to stay home and did not even look out the door until about 5 PM. At that point, I realized that even though the driveway was cleared, I would have to dig out the steps and the walk and the car - oh well.

While I was having a cup of tea and reading a magazine, I came across this poem. It is perfect for a snowy day.

Poem for our Plow Guy
You're an easy man to fall for, waking me with your corrugated rumble
and your headlights in the dark, making your way closer, closer
up our driveway through the muffled work, batterred blade
heaping all that glitter into banks spilling rumpled over
soft, accumulations turned so trim I could walk out
and step between them, follow the ice-scraped aisle
to the door of your pickup with your full name steciled
on the side, take a hand up into your stuffy cab, that woolly nest
where I could breathe in scents of black coffee and your peppermint
lifesavers and one sleepy guy, while some voice on the radio croons
or wails its heart out just loud enough to hold your eyes open all night
long on your mission to keep sweeping us back to the world.
- Candice Stover

This poem appeared in the February issue of Down East magazine. I've never met my plow guy, but I loved this poem and today I am swept back into the world.

A Lighthouse Keeper

Not really news, but new to me, Connie Small, author of The Lighthouse Keeper's Wife passed away on January 25, 2005 at the age of 103. People often talk wistfully about living on a lighthouse - a quiet, contemplative existence. I recommend Connie's book. She describes the life of a lighthouse keeper in realistic detail. The occupation was not for the lazy or timid, yet she and he husband seemed to thrive on it.

I had the pleasure of meeting Connie several years ago when she was on a tour promoting her book and serving as a wonderful example of a vibrant and active senior. We spent a moment sharing our reminiscences of favorite lighthouses (mine is Pemaquid.) She was a gracious lady and a remarkable person.

"May the sunrise give you hope and inspiration,
The sunset, the comfort of a day well spent."
-- From The Lighthouse Keeper's Wife by Connie Small

The Bleak Midwinter

Well, the good news, for those of us in the frozen parts of North America, is that winter is half over. Groundhog Day (February 2) falls around the time of an ancient cross-quarter day. That is, it is half-way between the winter solstice and the vernal equinox.

Meteorologically speaking, February marks the time of year (in my neck of the woods, anyway) that the earth is slowly beginning to hold on to a little more of the sun's heat each day. This is supposed to have started as soon as the days begin to get longer, but it takes a while for the earth with all its water and atmosphere to catch up.

I am saying this to make myself feel better.

I like the idea of the solstice, equinox and cross-quarter days. They obviously were more significant when more people relied on the weather and the seasons for their livelihood. It is interesting to note how many of our holidays fall around these seasonal markings. A festival of lights at the darkest time of the year...recognition of life, death and rebirth around the time of the vernal equinox...etc., probably not a coincidence.

The photo above is of a frozen Lake Erie. Thanks to my friend, the photographer, Judy.