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Both Sides of the Fence

A Tosa resident since 1991, Christine walks the dog, cooks but avoids housework, writes and reads, and enjoys the company of friends and strangers. Her job takes her around the state, learning about people's health. A Quaker (no, they don't wear blue hats or sell oatmeal or motor oil), she has been known to stand on both sides of the political and philosophic fence at the same time, which is very uncomfortable when you think about it. She writes about pretty much whatever stops in to visit her busy mind at the moment. One reader described her as "incredibly opinionated but not judgmental." That sounds like a good thing to strive for!

Today was a gift

Spirituality

We have the media to thank for a heavenly day precipitated by a big dose of hysteria.

If you got stuck in a drift or dinged in a skid-on collision, my condolences. But for the rest of us, it just wasn't that bad.

Although the streets are slick and the hills tough to climb, there's nothing much in today's weather that couldn't be dealt with by driving slowly and keeping a prudent distance. The shoveling's heavy, but you can still do it that way as fast as with a snowblower. Particularly if you set a fit 17-year-old to the task. Still, if you're older, go slow: thar be heart attacks and back injuries ahead.

Whether the weather justified the school-out slow-down day or not, I'm glad it happened. 

If you weren't rushing somewhere, most of the day was a shaken snow globe kind of day. The kids, almost grown, went sledding in the big wet snow at Curry Park. A pot of root vegetables and beef cooked slowly for hours alongside loaves of chocolate chip pumpkin bread. Idgy and I wore ourselves out breaking trails in the knee-high snow along the creek. There were naps in the afternoon.

Now, two dark haired girls are bending over the fire, adjusting logs, disputing and laughing.  There's no homework to be done, nothing to do but feed the fire and drink tea. Read. Dream.

This is what we live for. Did you forget?

 It's a day to remember.

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