Thoughts on a February Morning

The temperature has plummeted to 10 below this morning after a high of 40 something yesterday. Tomorrow it will roller coaster back up to the mid-30's before dashing down once again. It's good to have a little variety in our tundra existence. The wind was bracing and sharp when I stepped out the door this morning, 2 pails of water balanced on either side of me, a plastic bag full of greens, all for the geese. As if the bitter bite of the air weren't enough, Shmuel gave me a nip on the leg for good measure. For nothing really. Well, intrusion. I followed Frieda's (Richard's mother's) example and wapped him on his bill to snap him out of the biting urge which sent all of the geese into a jabbery ruckus. So be it. I had to trudge up and over quite a snowbank to get to the path - or luge run - we've chopped out up to the goose pen. Yesterday Shannon, the plower of our drive, came by with a brand spankin' new orange tractor, its tires wrapped in chains, ready for business. We were glad to see him because the warmth of the day had sent great masses of heavy snow from our roof slushing down plop all over our porch, in front of our garage, and various other inopportune places. He revved and shoved masses of the white stuff up into ever enlarging glaciers around our house. And to think this was the winter we weren't supposed to get much snow. Hmmm?

I'm here by myself today. Richard's at work and then teaches class and won't be back until 9:30 this evening. It's a solitary existence on these days, especially after a week in NYC where you really can't avoid people. And I love being around them. It's inspiring. It offers countless opportunities for interaction, compassion, curiosity, smile spreading, conversation, well wishing. There are those opportunities here as well, it's just a shift. One must seek them out. Well, one must seek them out everywhere, I suppose. One is free to shut off or welcome possibility wherever one resides. I have egg duty today. Every 2 hours or so I'll go check in on the 2 coops and gather eggs up before they freeze. We're getting over a dozen each day now. Good work, girls! I also will check in on the turkeys, now housed over at Royce's barn in an upstairs pied a terre that Richard has fashioned for them. I'll bring them over feed and lettuce which they love grab chomping out of my glove hand. They're all in fine fettle, with our tom looking especially fetching. Yesterday with the good weather we let the turkeys out to range and they inevitably congregate on our front porch. The propane people stopped by to top off our tank and our tom swelled his chest feathers and spread his tail feathers like a deck of cards to let all of us know who the male was around these parts. Very impressive. The girls stayed in a clutch by the woodpile, admiring their "guy." I think I could hear them murmur in turkey "Our hero" then they gave a sort of swoony gobble.

Chilly days make a good excuse to read and next up in the book department is Richard Wright's "Black Boy." If I'm in town, I intend on attending the book group that our local library hosts once a month every winter, facilitated by a member of the Vermont Dept of Humanities. Every year there's a different theme - 3 years ago, my 1st year, it was the Victorian novel; last year, the short story; and this year, memoir. It's a surprisingly engaging group, scintillating and vital and fun. I look forward to it. A celebration of books, of reading, of keeping the light of learning new things forever bright. I so enjoy it. And I hereby dub it, oh, let's say reason number 45 that I love living in Vermont. And 46 would be the appreciation of the vitality of older people in our society. What a joy it is witnessing an older population that embraces their age and does so with such vitality and curiosity, a torch burning ever bright, grateful for what their younger ages have brought them, but equally glad for what this chapter provides as well. It's so stimulating. I appreciate the richness of their lives. Hooray.

Time for an egg run, another log on the fire and a bit of a read. I wish you health and curiosity, reflection and appreciation, and maybe some warm bread and soup.