that's mrs. mediocrity to you

make your own:
light
love
wings
magic
hunger
dreams
darkness
season
power
fire
mittens

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at this time of year, seeing the sun is an event

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let’s call this one

blue jay heaven

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And February is always the longest month, no matter what the calendar says.

But this morning the sun is shining and the snow is sparkling and it’s hard to be mad at her, this second-month girl, as she flirts with dawn and begs to be scolded.

When there is nothing to be done, the path of least resistance is acceptance.

And so, I accept.

I’m about to don my winter gear to go out and rake snow off the roof in the one spot that will always leak after a snowstorm no matter how many times we have it repaired.

While I’m out there, I will feed the birds, because seriously, would you want to be a bird if this was your playground? I’m sure that by now, the tall grasses have been stripped of all their seed, the black-eyed susan’s little brown heads have been picked clean, and the berries on the holly bush are just a memory.

But the sun is shining.

From my window I can see bits of snow glittering from the tops of those tall grasses, like diamonds.

Everything out there is dressed in black and white or gray, so apparently, this party is a formal affair. I’m almost afraid to crash it in my barn coat and purple wellies.

But, after all, I am just the gardener, and Mother Nature is the queen.

She would hardly expect me to show up in a dress.

All the same, I suppose I’ll have to bow and curtsy and comment on the decorations.

And if I’m lucky, later, I’ll be invited to stay for dessert.

I’m not making this face quite yet, this bored, grumpy, is it summer yet? face, but I will be, soon.

My naughty kitten has a very restless heart, and this frigid cold is putting a serious crimp in his style. And by style I mean hunting, mouse exterminating, pest control. He sleeps inside every night, but by day he prowls our property (and beyond) for mice and moles and chipmunks (his favorite), with the occasional bird thrown in to show me who’s boss.

But for the past few days it has been so incredibly cold that he has stayed inside, pouting, causing trouble, getting into mischief. Keeping me up at night with his antics. Normally, after a day in the field, he comes in and passes out and we don’t hear from him until morning. But he has been sleeping most of the day, and so, at night, he is wide awake and looking for entertainment. Cat-style entertainment, you know, running over people’s heads, beating up the other kitties, pouncing on toys and pillows and anything else that can stand in as prey.

It’s kind of funny when it’s not highly annoying (which is around 1:00 in the morning). And it makes me think how much really does depend on the weather, though we like to think that somehow we are above all that, we like to think that we’ve evolved past caring about such trivialities, we like to think that the cocoons we’ve built for ourselves insulate us from what’s going on outside. And in some ways, of course, they do.

But even so, we can’t really ever escape the weather, or nature. Time cycles and seasons shift and we take the sunshine for granted until we are hit by a storm, or extreme cold or too much heat. Floods and droughts and cyclones and tornadoes are the stuff of news, and we forget the power of Mother Nature’s fury on those days when she is smiling down on us.

I don’t think it’s trivial when people talk about the weather. I think it’s human nature. I think it’s a throwback to the times when we lived out in the elements, when paying attention to the weather was a matter of survival. A time that, in the grand scheme of things, really wasn’t so long ago.

But I’m still going to be making this same face for a while before Spring arrives. For me, February is always the longest month. I have tried both fighting it and embracing it, but I think this year, I’m just going to accept it, and wear that expression with pride.

If naughty kitten can do it, so can I.

The snow came just before Thanksgiving, making life feel a tiny bit magical and bringing us together, here at home, in the way that snowstorms do.

For the past few days I’ve been surrounded by family and food and snow and blankets and books and fires.

My body still doesn’t feel so good, but my heart feels wonderful.

Filled with love and gratitude, hope and happy.

A snow globe I’d be glad to stay in.

This was my view last Saturday. The tiny slice of lake we could see through the trees from our cabin, covered in a fabulous morning mist. It was one of the best fall-weather days we’ve ever had in the mountains.

Today I am back in my studio, the view ever-familiar, monkshood, hydrangea, and anemone still competing for attention. There is still green to be seen, though browns and grey have begun their slow creep across the landscape. A confused bachelor’s button has sprung up recently and begun to bloom, just below my window.

Last night, the Hunter’s Moon. Huge and round and refusing to be shadowed by earth. Black sky and golden light, twinkling stars and crisp air that smells of autumn. Every time I walk outside I find myself drawing in a huge breath, trying to capture the scent of another season.

Trying, perhaps, to capture all this color, and hold it deep inside so that I might pull out its memory in the grey months ahead. This was all Mother Nature’s idea, you know, to paint the landscape with extra vibrancy in autumn so that we might have that extra quilt to pull up around our shoulders when Old Man Winter comes to stay.

Also last night, the first indoor fire of the season. Books and knitting and wool socks and this ceiling that hems me in just a bit too much.

But I have a good imagination and if I close my eyes, I can always find Orion, waving down at my gypsy spirit.

Holding a place for me outside, beneath my favorite sky.

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each one the embodiment

of sunshine

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and i am basking in her glow.

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