Old Man Winter has returned with a vengeance. Snow, more snow, and near zero temperature. BAH!! But this morning, hours before the thermometer dipped to such miserable frigidity, I leisurely cleaned snow off my van and listened to the unusual quiet that happens when people stay in instead of going to work or school. Perhaps other people are more organized and conscientious than me, and leave early so they are sure to get to work on time. Scraping snow and ice from my car windows and lights, ever so meticulously, is no doubt a delay tactic that justifies my 15-minutes-late arrival on the job.
What do I remember most about this morning? In case that question is burning in your brain, I’ll tell you. Surely, it was the hawk that shrieked only one time from somewhere in the woods behind our house. Hawks are just magnificent, one of my favorite birds. It pleases me immensely to know one was hunting near me….well, I assume he was hunting. He obviously wasn't sleeping, and do hawks do much besides hunt, eat, and sleep? Probably not, especially this time of year.
It’s been a few weeks since I wrote a post. The less I write, the less I write. It’s kind of how I am.
Work has been just ridiculous the past few weeks. It sucks every last ounce of life right out of me. Sometimes, I feel like one of those Chinese acrobat jugglers. For five days a week, I stand on a platform and juggle a bowling ball, a long-ass razor-sharp Samurai sword, a blow-torch, a running chain-saw, a stick of soft butter, an axe, five tennis balls, and 5 peanuts. That’s about all I can keep in the air at one time. My trusty assistants intervene and make the platform I’m standing on spin, or tie a blindfold on me, or do something to make it all more tricky to keep up with. Every day I leave work wondering how many things I dropped, when I will find out (maybe not tomorrow or even next week), and how bad the damage will be. They just can’t pay me enough.
But enough of that. This is my “off time”. I’m off the clock, which is really kind of a silly thing to say when you are a salaried person. I’m always off the clock.
Sarah is going to produce a new CD and even a vinyl record which is all kind of exciting for me…given that I am her mother. She began singing even before she could say words. There was never any doubt in my mind she had a passion for performing for an audience. Our old coffee table was her favorite stage when she was just a toddler. It was an old wooden oversized, low table, sturdy and already beat up - just perfect for her to dance on. She would sing and dance on it for as long as anyone would watch her. And yes, adoring mother that I am, I loved to watch her, but if my eyes strayed for even a moment, she would insist “Look at me, Mommy! Watch me!!!!!”