1 17 2018
|Robins at the frozen birdbath 1/15/18|
OK, I know I don’t live in the real north, where I have lived for many years, and I know I don’t have to commute anymore, which I also did for many years. But even then I loved snow. I love it even more now.
I have a reverse case of SADD. I get all depressed with the hot, sunshiny days approach. I don’t like heat and I don’t like to be in the sun. I like winter! It energizes me.
Today is a great day. Gentle snow is falling silently straight down. The poem I’ve known since I was a child popped into my head today.
The north wind doth blow
And we shall have snow.
And what will poor Robin do then, poor thing?
He’ll hide in the barn
To keep himself warm
And hide his head under his wing, poor thing.
So I am contently concentrating on my writing today. Content except for my chapped lips. That’s a hazard of being a writer. How so, you say?
Here’s the thing. One of my characters has a habit of chewing her lower lip when she thinks or is upset. So, as I’m writing her, I’m doing that, too. I stopped last night to try to figure out the horse/cart situation here. Were my lips chapped and so I gave them to her? Or did they get chapped because she started it? I have no way of knowing. But I do know I will have to get her some lip balm. (I took a picture of my chapped lips, but it’s too gross to post here.)
Yes, this is firmly in the Writers Are Strange Department.
I hope you are warm and cozy today and don’t have to struggle with weather. If you DO have to, I hope you are victorious and come home safe.
Second robin picture from morguefile