Greetings from Sarah on another snow, Up North day! She does such a pretty, polite "Sit!" when I have food in my hand.
Heard this morning on the radio someone saying what she’d learned from the current financial crisis: “I’m pretty much on my own.” We all learn that truth eventually, in one way or another. One friend said she learned it on the infamous September 11. Some find the lesson in the breakup of relationships, others on the battlefield.
The other side of that coin is first feeling all alone and thinking no one cares, then learning that someone (sometimes even many people) do care, and that’s just as true. Truth here, as so often, is in paradox. It’s true that we’re on our own, and it’s true that we don’t have to be as rugged in self-sufficiency as we sometimes believe. People do care.
One day past the solstice, two days into Hanukkah, with Christmas three days ahead, David and I both thought we might have a lot of last-minute shoppers at the bookstore, since the weather is so treacherous, but the streets of Northport are practically empty. (Never underestimate the determination of small town residents to make their way to the nearest large town!) On such a day, a small occurrence like a comment on my blog from Salt Lake City is heart-warming. At least in the virtual world, someone has noticed that I’m here!
It was good to have artist friend Debra Ebbers drop in around noon, too. She brought her lunch, I heated up lentils from home, and we each had a red leather chair for our visit, in honor of which I'm posting this picture of some of Deb's palettes, in use at her studio last Wednesday evening.
Snow is still falling. The forecast is for it to continue through Wednesday and for the sun to shine on Christmas Day. Though I often long for chickens and horses (we have the room!), I probably would not enjoy making all those trips out to the barn this time of year to do chores.