introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ...the blizzard belted through bangor. skimming drifts - 27 january 2015 "i was raised up believing i was somehow unique / like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see. and now after some thinking, i'd say i'd rather be /a functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me."~ fleet foxes it's a snow day! i say this with only mild surprise. the front was big enough that they've named it (after my favorite 9o's email service, obvs.) so you know, we knew it was coming. still...a snow day at 36 years old still feels as terrific as it did when i was 9. "they'll close work on tuesday I'm sure," he texted. "you think? i'm not counting on it. it would be awesome, though," i replied. i know better than to expect them to shut down. i'd love to hear how those conversations even happen among the leadership folks--none of whom, i suspect, are either trained or armchair meteorologists. "this weather starting tuesday at 4 a.m. and ending on wednesday at 1 a.m., an inch an hour if not more, if they open work, that'd be very foolish," was his retort. i suppose he'd know better...he's lived here all his life. weather around here makes you really good at math. i've picked it up myself...snow accumulation is really just a reason to dabble in long division and sometimes a bit of algebra, solving for x where x= the amount of snow melt you'll need, how frequently you'll want to clear your walk, or how many cans of soup you'll need to get through a power outage. i got my groceries and made sure i had extra dog food and supplement for the baby. on sunday night, there was nothing left to do but wait and see. i've learned that here, we are always ready because we have to be. we take each little break in the weather to restock supplies, to put everything in order for the next big snow....because it's coming and it isn't stopping until may so just keep up and if you don't like it, just hop back on 95 south and thank you for coming / come again soon whatever whatever, vacationland. we watch the weather maps and radar. we speculate. mostly, we wait and see. there is always canadian white bread on the shelves, nobody is fighting over a last gallon of milk or the last roll of scott tissue. we keep our gas tanks topped off just in case. we keep the shovels inside our doors because we're going to have to dig a way out in the morning. we wear long underwear like a second skin and our feet are always stuffed in slippers unless we're tucked betwixt flannel sheets and huddled under downy bedspreads. here, i sit by my fire, i wait and see. here, i don't dwell long on the memory of summer because winter is as glaringly beautiful as any summer i could remember anyway. it's putting to use all those fucking girl scout badges in real life for the fun of it. this winter forces me to be present in a way that summer never can. i barely remember my feet in sandals. here, it's all just playing at survival. i could never play house...it had to be little house in the big woods. we waited. we watched. this morning, i woke up early from the brightness of the winter white light. the entire house felt like it was creaking and shaking from the wind. it was only 7 a.m. it was cold and i was slipping out of bed quickly to get to the window to see how much snow had fallen since i'd gone to bed. none. there was nothing. there was a bit last night then nothing. cold, naked, and disappointed, i snuck back between my soft winter sheets and tried to go back to sleep. restless, i watched the room brighten slowly. eventually, the constant gusting wind and the cadence of my son's sleepy breathing lulled me back to shallow sleep. when i opened my eyes again, it was after ten. the baby slept soundly. i checked my phone...work is indeed cancelled today. a snow day before i'd even gotten out of bed or looked outside...that's a good way to start a day. i watched the baby as i nudged him gently awake. i love to be there with him when he wakes up. i like to see him recognize me in the morning which elicits one of his sweetest smiles. i like to ask him if he remembered his dreams. i remind him of his hands and his feet and he tells me stories i can't understand. i'm lucky to start each morning this way when so many moms probably have to rush off in the mornings--i'll get to spend the day with him. "today," i explained, "is a snow day." that means we can hang out all day. we can take naps and read some books and i can stay in my long underwear and he can stay in his jammies and we'll spend the unexpected day together and neglect any leftover chores and just hang out. i pulled on layers, long johns under jeans, a thermal shirt under a sweater. i pushed my feet into my warm worn slippers, and got the baby his breakfast. the snow must have come all at once, just as my writing friend suggested...several inches an hour. it was blowing like crazy. i watched a plow glide by while i changed a diaper and saw how futile it's work was...the snow was just blowing back all over the road, dusty and dry and impossible to deal with. i opened the inside door to find that i was snowed in. i dug out part of the way--not as easy with a door that opens out-- before my neighbor made quick work of my walk and getting my door open for sammy to go out. the wind is blowing from every direction at one time and there are four foot drifts in the yard. where it isn't drifting, it is as high sam's shoulders and i've had to dig out the door twice since this morning. it's hard to say if the snow is just blowing or if more is falling or both...when i went outside, all i could hear was the wind and the icy snow colliding with the glass of the windows and the siding of the house. there is a quiet under all of it that hits me. while my parents were here...when i was home again...i started thinking of leaving bangor behind sooner rather than later. there are so many things i miss about pittsburgh and so many other places i want to see or try to live, too. i've been thinking a lot more of nashville/murfreesboro than i ever expected i could at this point in my life...but i've got friends there and i have a long-forgotten feel for the place, too. i eyeballed rochester for the proximity to my parents and to my aunt...but no. no, rochester. no. it's like maine knows when i'm thinking of leaving and gives me a few days that are exactly what i pictured when i saw the list of cities and said, "bangor. i'm going there." every time i see the penobscot river, at some points frozen solid, at others, icy foam rushing over the dams in old town...every time i cross the kenduskeag stream babbling and rushing over giant glacial boulders heaped with ice caps. every time i see the wind chill factors and shovel out my front door, i remember what i was looking for when i came here. this place eases homesickness if given a few days. i came here for the winters...the beautiful summers were an unexpected delight of their own. i came looking for a gentler version of something extreme to see if i could manage it and that's precisely what i've found...and i'm pleased to find that i'm managing it pretty well. i will likely move on eventually but there is a lot more for me yet to appreciate here. when i do push off, i will carry these winters in my heart because they're changing me. i've been on my own for nearly a year now and each day here has been a little adventure. i'm surprised to find that the way i look at my work is changing for the better, too. it is some of the most dehumanizing work a person can do and i'm not sure that many people realize this. the time away was good for me and i'm only now realizing how good...my brain needed a break. a different approach now...i don't have to drink the kool-aid but i don't have to be so miserable about it, either. a lesson in meeting people where they are and making sense of it. what did they say about patience at the monastery? you can only learn it from another person. my life seems to be challenging me to be more patient than i ever have in my life. i am not what i do for work. i am who i am when i get to come home and be with people i love...when i get to come home and tell this little boy how much i've missed him and how glad i am to be home to be with him. you have to go away to come home again. my work is inconsequential right now and that isn't lost on me...but rather than bemoan my commitment, i feel more motivated to make the best of it and take from it what i can for now. if they'll pay for some law school, i need to start figuring on how to make that happen. being home again has let me clear my head a little but it took these last few days of harsh weather to make me stop and recalibrate, to make the best of what i've got right now. and that is what winter always meant for us to do...it forces us to do our reckoning. i'm thankful that i get to be here. i'm less antsy to make a jump for a change in scenery. i'm less homesick and my heart wants to figure each thing out, one thing at a time. i needed today more than i realized. xo, jones ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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