the busy heart

I didn't hear about the storm until my neighbor mentioned it Wednesday evening, and then I heard about it everywhere. There were flashing warning signs on the side of the highway on Thursday, and my phone did a special alert bulletin (which I didn't know it was capable of), in case I had missed the memo. But even late Thursday, there was no real sign of it. The skies were blue, though a slightly brooding blue, if that's possible. And everything felt sort of calm, as the cliche goes. We went out to get a couple of things from the store, and the shelves were nearly bare of essentials. Everyone was hunkering down. We, on the other hand, were buying items for fish tacos with mango salsa--unseasonable fare for the night before a giant blizzard, but oh they were delectable. Friday passed, mostly in waiting. It was snowing, but not earnestly. Sam kept the fire going, and I started a quilt, and we stayed indoors, thinking this thing wasn't going to be that big of a dea...

I stopped wearing my coat, even though I shivered all the way from my car to campus. I tore all the draft-preventing plastic from our windows, even though I could feel the wind come through the closed window and kiss my neck. I cooed at the little green sprouts by our doorstep, even though they haven't blossomed yet. My reasoning was this: If I ceased lending credibility to winter, it would get its feelings hurt, realize its goose was cooked, and split. But it didn't. It hasn't snowed again or anything. And the weather has been decent-er, sometimes even lovely, but where the Sam Hill (Hi, Sam!) are the flowers, the blossoms, the bright pink petals? Enough already with the brown. I wouldn't whine, but I keep seeing pictures of the cherry blossoms in DC, which are painfully gorgeous. And I was thinking maybe they're just lower than us, and wondering how many days it takes spring to travel 8 hours. But today I saw pictures of flashy flowers in the Pacific Northw...

Dumping snow, now. Maybe, just maybe, we'll have another day off school tomorrow. And then I can stay home and get really bummed out again. I LOVE doing that. In other minor news, last night Sam and I went to CVS to pick up a prescription. When I was backing out of my parking spot, I stopped short because there were three missionaries walking behind me. One of them held up his hand, and I was convinced he flipped me off. CONVINCED. Horrified, ready to scold the naughty young one, I threw open my door and yelled, "Excuse me, but did you just flip me off?!" You should have seen the fellow shudder, cringe. I thought he would weep. "No no! I was just holding my hand up to say thank you!" I apologized, told him I was LDS, hence my concern. For some reason this incident was wildly funny to me. I don't know that the poor missionary felt the same way. Oh, and, I slipped on the ice again today. This time I landed on my side, which is also cushy. It ...

Don't get me wrong, it was still fairly cold today. And I hear the hoggie saw his stupid shadow. But it was actually, sort of, warmish today. A bold 42. I didn't even wear my coat once I got to campus. I could imagine what it will be like when my long sleeve shirt is unbearable. And yet, I fell on my tush. I've been stepping lightly for weeks now, mincing my way like a grandma down our sidewalk so as not to slip. Of course this evening, when the warming weather brought down my gaurd just a touch, I ate it. Good thing I have such a cushy rear, and good thing I landed on it and not my bones.