Sunrise, Sunset (or, When the Apple Outgrows the Tree)

I know I've done nothing but bitch about the cold weather and the snow and the winter and ohmygodblahblahblahblahblah - but I have to say there is one thing I will miss when it's gone for good: sunrises and sunsets behind the leafless trees. They really have been quite spectacular. I'll trade 'em for warmer weather in a heartbeat, though, don't get me wrong. Just sayin'.

This morning as I was taking Liv to school and we were watching a pretty fabulous sunrise, I mentioned something about how pretty the contrast of the stark leafless trees set off by the vibrant burning sun was. She said, "Oh! That reminds me!" and proceeded to tell me a story about school and Science class. The teacher was talking them through a compare and contrast between plant cells and animal cells. She wanted them to think like scientists. My Liv says to me, she says, "But I can't really think like a scientist. I think like a writer. My teacher thought I was taking notes - and I kind of was, because I was paying attention to what she was saying and stuff, but I wrote in my notebook: Book Idea."

She went on to share her idea with me, but I'm not going to share it with you because it was KILLER good and I hope she writes it up. I am seriously jealous of my twelve year old's book idea. There are probably a lot of things about that that are wrong.

The Great Gray Beast

Ok, I think I've showed amazing restraint. We are thirty hours into February as I write this and I have not once quoted Clive Barker. Yet.

The great gray beast February had eaten Harvey Swick alive. Here he was, buried in the belly of that smothering month, wondering if he would ever find his way out through the cold coils that lay between here and Easter.

He didn't think much of his chances. More than likely he'd become so bored as the hours crawled by that one day he'd simply forget to breathe.

Ok. Now I've done it. Now it's February. This passage opens Clive Barker's 1992 book, The Thief of Always. It is actually a children's book, but it holds a great deal of adult appeal, as so many children's books do. Besides, in 1992 I was still firmly entrenched in my Clive Barker period, and if he wrote it, I was going to read it.

This particular passage resonated with me and, from what I've been reading, I am far from alone. It doesn't feel like February until I've quoted it to someone. Not that 'feeling like February' is such a good thing, I suppose. But February it is.

I held the great gray beast at bay for a couple hours yesterday. I hadn't meant to. There were errands that needed to be done, but there was also laundry and that pesky couch whose ability to remain on the floor couldn't always be trusted to gravity alone. I can assure you, I did NOT want to do those errands. It was warm and cozy here in my cave. But Liv had some books on hold at the library and they weren't going to hold them any longer. I sighed. It had to be done. But I didn't have to be happy about it.

I got dressed, but I didn't feel cute (laundry day - which was being blown off - remember?). I ran my errands - library, groceries, drop things off, pick things up - you know - a typical errand day. I was doing it with all the enthusiasm it merited (which was, you know, none). I drove through McDonald's for my lunch (oh, like you don't eat drive through on errand day) and when I opened my window, it was surprisingly not cold. To say it was warm would be an exaggeration, but it was not cold. Relatively. I left the window down till I picked up speed. It felt good - fresh.

A little sunshine, a little fresh air, and I felt the first stirrings of a smile. Of course the beast isn't done. I know that. It's just resting a bit. But that little taste of what was to come was enough to see me through the day.

Suck it, beast.

Happy February.

Winter Fashion? No Thank You.

I do not have a good winter wardrobe. I don't even think I have a passable winter wardrobe. I live in Ohio, where we have relatively miserable winters (I say relatively because I've lived in places that are worse. But it's still bad. Just sayin'. Relatively). I do not own snow boots. I have a couple pairs of fashion boots, but they're not easy to come by (thick calves, dontcha know) and not fun to buy. I've had the same couple pairs for years. I don't have a proper winter coat. I have a leather swing coat that was handed down to me by my mother when she got sick and lost a lot of weight. That's right. A hand-me-down. From my mom. It has neither buttons nor a zipper. That's right. It doesn't close in the front.

None of this is, by the way, because I cannot afford to buy clothes. Just so you know. Things are tight, but not quite that tight. I just don't want to use what little fashion budget there is on ugly winter ugliness. Buying snow boots would acknowledge the snow, and I have no plans to do so. A coat with a closure would acknowledge the cold, something else I have no plans to do. If I ignore them, perhaps they'll go away. (fingers in ears, lalalalalala)

I have a lot of scarves. I have a few hats. I have a pair of gloves somewhere...

I realized that if the opportunity suddenly arose for me to go somewhere warmer for a couple days I would be in the store buying all kinds of cute things for my vacation. Even if it was only for a weekend. But for winter? Which lasts a good three months? Nah - I can get by. I don't need to throw any money at THAT.

I was thinking that it's a similar mentality that drives us when we have a special occassion. We'll spend money on a special occassion dress that we'll only wear once - and accessories for same - that we would never dream of spending on clothes we'll wear over and over and over. Why? Special occassions are fun! We need to adorn ourselves appropriately - give the special occassion it's due. Everyday is not fun. We don't want to invest in everyday. Winter is not fun. I don't want to invest in winter.

I used the plural tense (predominately) in that last paragraph - was that presumptuous? Is this just me, or is there something to it?

We're supposed to get a wintry mix tonight - whatever the hekyll and jekyll that is. I'll be greeting it in mesh sneakers and a T-shirt. And maybe a scarf. Probably a scarf. If I don't fully acknowledge it, it isn't really there, right? RIGHT?