A poem for winter

Inspired by Dan at Steel Kaleidoscopes and that I'm in a seriously whiny mood:

What Winter Means to Me

Mailbox sticking out of snowbank
Brown lawn exposed and receding with snowfall
Wind whipping my hair into knots
Dry skin and lots of lotion
Sicknesses, one, two, three -- can't go to daycare
Snowstorm coming -- cancel plans

BUT

Snowglobe outside and Boo's wonder
Barking dog next door can't stand the cold
Snuggling on the couch with a book as the snow falls
Dressing like a snow princess
Christmas, my favorite holiday
LL Bean, baby

BUT

Isn't it spring yet?

Who needs 14 kids?

This octuplet lady is blowing my mind. Seriously. Blowing. My. Mind. It's coming out that she had six kids and then went through fertility treatments that made her pregnant with what they thought were seven babies (surprise! an eighth popped out). She refused to selectively abort, which I don't agree with but respect, and now she has a freaking litter. Those babies only weigh a pound or two each. Probably not all of them are going to survive. I really don't like to judge, but honestly, 14 kids? I know how much work one is. I can't imagine 13 more Boos.

Have a good weekend, everyone. My updates are that I am sick and tired of winter (who isn't), I'm going on a cruise (yeehaw) and my son is growing ever-closer to walking and talking. Good times.

If you live in the Northeast

You know what I'm going to blog about, don't you?

Yes, the insane, bone-crunching, skin-drying, spirit-sapping COLD.

When I went into my garage this morning and started Ye Olde Camry, it was 19 degrees, according to the dash. The garage is attached to the house, and on days like this, I am happy for that fact.

As I pulled out, the temperature dropped. And dropped again. By the time I got a mile from my house, the thermometer was in the single digits and falling. As I sped down the highway, it dipped below zero and then righted itself again to 1 degree. Yes, a balmy 1. I was talking to some people who are west of Leominster, and they said it was 10 below zero.

This is the kind of day you want to stay in bed with the covers over your head. But alas, I had to work. So I bundled up and went to work. My son is warm and toasty in the babysitter's care, but it's a tough, cold world out here for those of us who have to make a living.

On days like this, I often think of homeless people and how lucky I am to have a home to go to. This kind of cold makes your hands hurt and turns your skin into paper from brief exposure. Thank goodness for a steam-heated office, long underwear and Starbucks.

Good weekend, all. Think the tree is coming down finally (it's all undecorated, but it's still up) and some family stuff. And maybe that fire.

That winter lull

The Christmas decorations are down, and the presents are put away. What's the next major holiday? Well, for us Christians it's Easter. But that's in April, which in this frigid state seems a million years away.

So I've been doing some hardcore Valentine's Day decorating. What I've found is it's difficult to find V-day stuff. I went to TJ Maxx yesterday and found some, but Wal-Mart doesn't carry it, and Target and Kohl's had very little. The baby loves the red, and it's fun. But it's still winter in New England, and it's still below zero with the windchill. And that sucks. Maybe we need to light a fire.

Been a long time, been a long time

Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lone-ly time. (Well, for you, without a post from me. At least I hope not.)

I've been busy, to say the least. Work has been balls-to-the-wall nuts. We got power back Monday, but then it was a matter of playing catchup with the laundry, cleaning, etc., since we went to my parents' in Melrose while we didn't have power for four days. No power= no heat, and had it just been the two of us, M and I might have toughed it out. But I have a little guy to worry about now, so off to Nana's we went. And now we have another storm bearing down. My in-laws just got power back last night. Loverly.

And speaking of the little guy: I feel like he's exploding with his development. He's babbling, imitating sounds, and his latest trick is climbing the stairs. By himself. Of course, we are right behind him, but it's a bit nerve-wracking. Time for a gate.

It's amazing to me that this time last year, Boo was in my belly, and now he's crawling all over the place and pulling himself up on the cabinets and trying to figure out why there's an eight-foot lit-up tree in the middle of the living room. And he is going to be ONE YEAR OLD in about two weeks. Holy crap. They say it goes by fast, and they weren't kidding.

Have a fabu weekend, everyone, as we go into this last stretch before Christmas and start the Festival of Lights. And for my New England buddies: Stay warm, and drink lots of cocoa.

From the frozen, cold, dark north

You've probably heard on the news that North Central Massachusetts has no power. Well, we're in that story. There's no power in my neck of the woods, which means no heat. Trees are split up and down my street, including huge branches in my yard. I'm borrowing an Internet connection to write this. More later.

Mr. Plow's perspective

Yes, I frigging hate being plowed in. But this article detailed what it's like to be on the other end of the plow. What a thankless, tough, physically dangerous job. You work like hell for one shift; then you may not work at all for a while. I will say that this latest storm was a cinch to clean up, except for the packed-down, plowed-in snow at the end of our driveway. I broke my back moving that shit.

Sounds from the parking lot yesterday:

Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch of my boots on the snow
Scrape, scrape, scrape of those freeing their cars from their frozen prisons
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz of the snowblowers and CATs clearing sidewalks and driveways and making it safe for all

The Smell of Fear

M went to a local grocery store yesterday to pick up a few things (Saturday morning is his normal shopping day). He had to park at the mall across the road, he couldn't find a cart, and there were managers directing traffic inside the store. He said the line to check out was a "common feeder" line, and it started in the MEAT DEPARTMENT. He pared down our groceries to the bare essentials, then went through the express lane, which was normal-sized. My mom says it was the same business in the Boston area. If you don't have enough food to get you through a friggin' day of not being able to go out, you have a problem. Then again, maybe people are having people over for the Pats game tonight (if they still can).

GO PATS!

It really is incredible. They are calling for up to 40" on the Cape and islands once this storm wraps up tonight. The town of Hull, which, for the nonlocals, is a peninsula that reaches into the ocean, has its main street under several feet of water. This is one of the worst storms in local memory. But it seems to have stopped here. The sun is out, at least, even if it's as cold as a witch's tit here. (That expression courtesy of my dad). I feel like I should be doing all these house projects, but I cleaned all day yesterday, and then we watched American Pie on DVD. We'd been given it for a shower gift three years ago, but I'd never watched it. Some of the scenes made me laugh so hard, I cried. Of course, it was completely juvenile fart and sex humor, but damn was it ever funny. Basically an updated Porky's. Perhaps we'll rent AP2 or American Wedding some night.

Let It Snow, Baby

They are calling for 10 to 30 inches of snow here in Massachusetts, depending where you live and its relation to the coast. Here in North Central Mass, it could be anything from 12 to 24". So M and I have a friendly wager going.

If we get MORE than 20 inches, I get to pick the restaurant we eat at for our weekly date for the next two weeks.

If we get LESS than 20 inches, M does.

This all depends on what the National Weather Service officially calls for our town. So gentlemen, place your bets, and from where I'm sitting, LET IT SNOW.

It's snowing like a mother here, and being a Saturday, I love it.

I slept until noon today while M went out to do errands before the storm hit. He came home at about quarter to noon and woke me up. I hate sleeping that late, but I do believe your body takes what it needs. We took down the tree (boooo) and I cleaned up a bit. Now I've got a million candles burning and a fire roaring away in the fireplace. Mr. Plow has come by a bunch of times. I think someone complained -- our street is not well taken care of.

Last night we read The Smoking Gun about this Michael Jackson business. TSG got sealed court records and wrote a story about the allegations, including that he liquored kids up with "Jesus juice" (white wine in a Diet Coke can) and jerked them off. He also made obscene phone calls from his private jet, including calling women up and asking, "Does your pussy stink?" (This has been the subject of M's mimicry all day, BTW.) Investigators said they found a lot of porn at his Neverland ranch. M says that he thinks Michael basically is mentally stuck as a preteen, and that when he was that age, having porno mags was the shit. I don't know what Michael's deal was, but being a child of the '80s, I remember when he was da bomb. It's sad to see his decline. At best, he needs serious psychiatric help; at worst, jail.

The other big thing yesterday was the Jennifer Aniston-Brad Pitt split. The tabloids have been circling like vultures waiting for this. In my humble opinion, they were almost TOO glamorous, ya know? Both were huge stars and I think the amount of ego in that couple doomed them. I'm a huge Friends fan, but I never got the whole "Jennifer Aniston is hot" thing. She's cute, but I think she needs a lot of makeup. Brad, on the other hand, is a serious piece of ass.

A Poem for a Cold January Tuesday
In the darkness of the morning
The cold fingers of trees stretch against the blue-black
As my head wakes from nothing
And I can breathe, I can breathe
I wish so for flowers and warmth
For short sleeves and open windows
For walks in the sunshine
But I can breathe, I can breathe