Calm and Bright

Last December was our first winter in this land of wintry oppression, known to the greater United States of America as Minnesota.  At this time last year, we were already six weeks buried under countless feet of snow. I think six weeks is the perfect length for winter, incase anyone wanted to take note of that this time around, ahem.  I was also supremely large with child, only eight weeks to go, eager and anxious.  The day after Christmas our car died and we were carless for two months.  Matt was still working two jobs (still is) and relying on the bus system, which took extra hours away from us and meant he faced frigid and inhumane temperatures. And our new baby cried for the first four months of her life.  It was a long winter, literally and figuratively.

Today, I look outside my window and only a light dusting of the second snowfall remains cast upon the brown earth. On most days, I feel like I’ve got a handle on this whole two kids gig, at least 85% of the day.  We’ve implemented a system that includes me leaving the house one afternoon a week all by myself.  No errands, no demands, just a few hours of remembering what it was like to sit in a coffee shop at leisure.  My husband gets an afternoon too, because he needs that time just as much as I do.  It’s the best thing we ever done.  Every night, I’m free writing (morning pages as known in The Artist’s Way).  It’s a season of abundant creativity and I’m so thankful.  On a regular basis, I have tea with a friend and the most encouraging and inspiring conversations, while our kids play. We started a small business this year, and we just completed our first custom family Christmas card.  We’re getting to be part of helping friends grow their families.  We’re investing in a dream that no longer seems far away, as we hold a large stack of printed cards in our hand. On the back, our own names where you’d usually find another.  We’re seeing provisions come in the most unexpected ways.  Last night, we stood in the kitchen at a very late, sleepy hour and acknowledged this first major milestone with Furthermore Creative.  And today, when I paid the last bills of the month, I didn’t grimace or sigh.  There was enough.  Because, he is enough.

I’m knitting a stocking for my baby girl, it will be her first Christmas and my first knit stocking. Today, during her nap, we strung popcorn on a thread to hang on the tree. Mostly, my helper ate the popcorn and sipped hot cocoa, heavy on the marshmallows. And tonight, the evening is ours. We’ll tuck our babies into bed at a ridiculously early hour (because it’s already dark and we love them and our time alone) and catch up on our favorite Thursday shows, that we always watch on Friday nights, by the light of the fire and this week, the peaceful glow of that silly little tree in the corner.

I think of the words, “All is calm, all is bright.” and I wonder if the calm is more than a description of the manager scene. Is it also an offering of thanksgiving, a story of peace and contentment, an acknowledgement of love and hope? I think, maybe yes.

All is calm. All is bright.

dear kindle & my ranting's on winter

Yesterday, I bundled up and walked 1000 feet to one of my favorite destinations, in the swirling snow and howling wind. I wore my pink rain boots, because  I have no winter boots, since I have refused to participate in winter and the reality that it is still present.  I mean, Minnesota, for the love of all that is sane and holy, why is it still winter and where in the world does all this snow come from and why in all of creation do people live here?  Why do I live here? I miss California. I miss Florida. I miss Tennessee. I miss everywhere there is warmth and green grass and leaves on the trees and my flip-flops. Do you know how much I hate wearing socks?

Oh, did I mention, we had another snow storm yesterday, like 10 more inches.  Minnesota is so dramatic with it’s winter weather drama. 

Now that you know how I feel about winter, let’s return to my story.  Yesterday, I walked to my local Starbucks.  Once upon a time, there was a beautiful lake next to the Starbucks, but all that remains is ice and snow and people who drive their cars onto the ice and sit in little buildings, fishing… in the cold… and they call this fun.  Something else I will never understand. I mean, I get the other kind of fishing, not so much the ice.  I only like ice in my ice cream and sweet tea.  Hmm, sweet tea.

I promise this post has something to do with a Kindle, and here’s how.  I finally got a Kindle, as in I’ve wanted one since the beginning of creation… sure, they weren’t exactly around then, neither was I, but deep down, I also knew I would want one.  Thanks to my amazing  husband, the only material thing that I want now is a mini cooper.

And I love it. I really, really do.  I also made that little case for it, because I looked online and thought, 1. those are all ugly. 2. I could make my own.  So, a little fabric and batting later, done.   Doesn’t it match the color scheme of my latte and cupcake box perfectly, it’s like it was meant to be. 

And that is probably because I was made for coffee shops.  Can I just say, how much I miss leisurely outings, sitting in the over-sized cozy chairs, the sounds of the espresso machines and the hissing of the steaming milk, the random bits of conversations,  and the delectable scent of coffee wafting through the air.  This is my comfort zone.

Anyways, it was magical and so is my new Kindle.

I must say that as a lover of the printed word, the smell of old paper, and the feel of a perfect book in my hands, I don’t think that books should ever be completely replaced by electronic readers, but I think that if you are an avid reader, you can enjoy books this way too, because it’s awesome.

What about you friends, do you have strong feelings on this subject or just strong affection for your e-readers?

dear Minnesota

First snowfall of 2010, November 13, 2010

Hello, new state of residence.  This may be the first of many letters to you regarding your weather. I found your summer to be viciously sweltering, your autumn just divine, but winter, oh winter.   Let me begin by saying that growing up in Michigan, I experienced many a winter, so in theory I’m not brand new to this season, it’s just that since graduating high school, we’ve been separated and I’m terribly unsure about our reunion.

I opted for college in sunny and warm Florida, enjoying winter the best way, for three weeks around Christmas.  Post college, I spent a year in California, where life is beautiful and perfect, filled with In-N-Out burgers (but that is another story).  California introduced me to Matt and we settled near Nashville, where winter is short and cool, as in it only snows a handful of days each winter.  So, in the last eight years, winter and I have become acquaintances who’ve drifted apart, with no real desire to reconnect.  It’s not me… it’s you.

And now, for some reason, I find myself in Minnesota on November 15, 2010, looking out over a world of   cold, white snow.  From the safety and warmth of my living room, it’s a lovely, winter wonderland, but yesterday I left the house and my nose was cold and my socks got wet.  I have a feeling that your chilly winter oppression will long overstay its welcome. 

I keep telling myself that I must wait at least a few weeks to start declaring the inevitable, “WHY DID WE MOVE HERE??”  (Explicative optional).  However, I find this thought creeping into my head, every time I consider the reality that I WILL have to drive somewhere at some point in the upcoming months. 

Sure, I enjoy hot cocoa, scarves, sweaters, warm blankets, cozy fires, pretty Christmas lights, and all the pleasantries of the holidays, but I don’t see myself becoming a fan of darkness at 5pm and temperatures that make me feel as if my entire body has been dunked in ice water, repeatedly.  

With all that said,  I’m afraid you’re not offering me much of a choice, Minnesota.  I do not see your stone cold heart budging in the winter department. So,  I will try to  face this beast  of a villain named Jack Frost to the best of my abilities.  May the best man win.

Skeptical,

Liv