 Winter seems to have gone on vacation. I had this imagined scene in my head last week, where Jonathan came home and admired all my epic shoveling of the 7 inches of snow that blanketed the driveway. Big piles attested to my shoveling prowess. Rain, rain, rain, temps over 50 degrees, a roller coaster of weather. No snow in sight, bare driveway, puddles abounding, sodden grass. No evidence to share of that snowstorm independence. You might have to live well north of the 49th parallel for dependable white Christmases in the future. Perhaps we’ll get snowcover again here in central Maine; could go either way. Speaking of changing Christmas, this December 25th will be Jonathan’s and my first Christmas day in 33 years without children in residence. You might think we’d be bereft, but we’re both looking forward to the novelty. It helps to know that kids will be trickling in shortly thereafter. Time marches on. Best to just keep in step. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 109: 162 words, TOTAL = 17,949; 42,051 remaining |
AuthorRobin Clifford Wood is a writer and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband and dogs, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her grown children and their multi-species families. Archives
June 2022
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