In a strange weather twist, the blizzard of 2016 bypassed upstate NY completely. The winter of no snow continues, while meantime two hours south Central Park has two feet and further south D.C. is buried. Here we have crispy grass and areas where my hardworking dogs manage to make mud between their warm snouts, their desire for tunneling rodents, and the sadly naked frozen earth.
Not anxious to shovel (no garage, no snowblowers chez moi) I nonetheless miss the blanket of white that softens and brightens the world when the thermometer hovers low. And gives respite for a month or two from the mud.
This kind of weird situation sums up my January 2016 feeling. I have had the sense throughout I am a half step off, somehow. Not dramatically, but like the tennis match where you have near miss after near miss– you can feel you’re close, but not quite, as the wind rushes past.
In individual communications, in work, in anything, can’t quite get in the groove, any groove. I’ve been stymied with one of my French classes, where I finally did a reverse mutiny Saturday morning (yes, Saturday classes @prep schools, uh huh) and freed the lot of them, not quite half of whom are charming gripe masters of work avoidance while the rest are awesome and a pleasure to teach. Alas, the former won that match. We’ll regroup Tuesday, and boy am I really looking forward to that class.
Especially since I need to allow enough time for my commute now (!) (see, Slowness, above) this PT teaching gig has been sucking up time in a FT way, nudging 30 hours with the drive time.
What. Was. I. Thinking.
Doesn’t help that I’ve been burning both the midnight and the pre-dawn oil trying to keep it all in motion. Forget the class planning and the grading, what about proofing rack cards, social media, bookkeeping, a full day of kitchen production (new kitchen!). The dogs, the wood, the car, oops no food, squeeze in a dentist appointment, the bills, oops no money (which part of net 30 do you, fellow small business owner, not understand, and can I help clarify?). Last but not least falling short of the intended daily blog posts…
Meantime. January’s full moon is the wolf– likely because the coldest weather of the year historically occurs this month (actually, the week we are in right now, and it is pretty cold) and so, I’m guessing, the danger of being eaten by a wolf, or at least hearing them in the distance howling to the moon, was that much greater. Hmm.
It was full last night, which I hadn’t registered til I looked it up in the Farmer’s Almanac this morning (see: time suck, above), though I had registered it was getting there because it has woken me up, a beauty sliding down the middle of one of my bedroom windows til it melts into a hill just east of the Taconic. One morning I woke around 4 thinking it was past time to get up because it was looking a little light outside. Yep.
Can’t barely tell if it’s day or night. But keeping the wolves, real, metaphorical, at bay. For now. And that’s the January wrap xo
Love this. You are a writer too! Did we share that part also? Way ahead of me with this fabulous blog. Also love the poem below…inspirational, really.
Hope to see you soon, take care and hold on, the wolf may seem to be at the door but something tells me you’ve got this (especially if you’ve got the prep school boys sorted!)
Xxx