It brings a twinkle to the sky...

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...: It's snowing again. The low pressure front sitting in the Gulf of Maine—which is about to manifest a bombogenesis and rain down snow to the tune of a foot or more—has been pressing on my head all morning.  Taxes, e-mails, lists of "to-dos;" grading, cleaning, homework, and the list goes on;
so much grown-up-ing...

My mojo's rising...: I have been nurturing my child-self lately, looking for the beginners mind as I reinvent myself each day. I lost that child this morning as I went to the store to "get the milk and bread," and dealt with all the others who were not only getting the milk and bread, but also a months supply of bottled water in case we might be snowed in for at least an hour or so before plows come by (did you hear the un-child-like sarcasm there in that statement?). I felt I did not want a snow day, as it will push my work year yet another day further into summer vacation. But what would the child me want? He'd want to make sure the mojo was not messed with and secretly pray for a Monday of sleeping in, video games, and comic book reading. He would stress over expectations of how snow days creep up when unexpected, and when hoped for, never seem to materialize...

"Round abounds" are better than U-Turns...: So for the last two days, as I have been interacting with all the people who think teachers have the final opinion on whether school will be cancelled or not (and if that is good or not), I have been saying, "I do not want any more snow days!" I think I need to change my song today. The child in me says, "Bring it on!" (Or perhaps I am just laying down some powerful mojo, eh?) I'll never say...

So long ago when I still thought like a child...: Back in 1991 I got to watch a Californian friend of mine see snow in person for the first time. She brought out the kid in an entire psych class of wanna-be grown-ups. We took a break from the lecture and played in the snow while the professor looked out the window at us act like we were half our actual ages. I've gone back to school for a single college class. It is so fun to think like I am half my age again for a few hours each week. So, here's to Megan and that eternal wonder-struck child we all have in our psyche who shows him/her-self when snow falls from the sky...

california born

to observe one who hasn't experienced snow
brings a smile to my lips;
perhaps greater than the smile
the initiant to heaven's first frosty drop of the year
has upon her face.
i have the benefit of 19 years
of white washed landscapes;
this is her first.
watching the absolute glee upon her face and
that twinkle in her eye
i remember every snowball thrown and
every melted flake upon my tongue;
the chill of frostniped toes and nose,
and the almost painful (but welcome) tingle of warmth by the
fire and a hot cup of chocolate.
she, through her simple look out the window,
that longing look which screams "i wanna go out and play,"
reminds me of my sometimes forgotten youth, and i smile.
i might even go as far as to say that there is a twinkle in my eyes.

fall 1991