Musical Beds, Snow, and Friends

We played musical beds the week of Thanksgiving. There were seven of us, so at least one person slept on the floor each night. Daughter Lise probably moved the most, sleeping in the living room, John’s office, and my room. I had a surprising experience, finding warmth where I least expected it. My north-facing bedroom was always frigid in cold weather, so I assumed the other two bedrooms were equally uncomfortable. Grandson David prefers the top bunk and offered me the single bed in his room. It was my childhood bed that had been my mother’s before me. I lay under a very thin blanket and a light quilt, expecting to shiver. Warm! It was toasty warm! The other surprise was finding David is even quieter at night than during the day. If I snored, he was polite enough not to mention it.

Lise and I were excited that the forecast was correct. We walked to the creek in falling snow! Neighbor Marla was walking Albert, and we had a nice chat with her.

Lise and Marla

When we came home, the grass was covered with snow. We didn’t get much more, and like the typical North Carolina snow, was gone a few hours later.

Connie and Marla suggested having lunch together. We went to a place none of us had been before and enjoyed the food and the visiting. There is nothing else in the world like having neighbors who are friends.

Connie, Lise, and Marla

Is it What I Said?

John mentioned the forecast the night before, but I didn’t get excited about snow. I said, “Even though I love snow, I’m not pulling for it now – not with daffodils and Bradford pear trees blooming.”

He agreed with my sentiments, and we thought no more about it. I stayed up much too late, watching a screen-saver slide show with grandson David. I suggested he pull up videos of the Valparaiso choir on the computer so that he could recognize faces of singers we had just seen. He, with his young eyes, spotted them easily on his phone. I didn’t move away from the monitor quickly enough, and the old photos began their parade. We got hooked. The program randomly chooses from all the pictures I have taken since 1962. I didn’t go to bed until 1:30.

Before the alarm went off, I heard a text message ding my phone. No matter what it was, it could wait. Too bad I didn’t get up. It was a message I would like to have seen immediately. Daughter Kate texted from New Jersey that schools were closing, and she might get 10 inches of snow. Glancing out the front window, I saw white and jumped to the conclusion we were in heavy fog. When I flung back the glass door curtains, I saw SNOW! It was already sticking to the deck. I said to myself, “ Hurry! Hurry! Get your clothes on and get out there to walk!” John and I are well-matched. He was thinking the same thing.

We were half way to the stop sign when blue sky loomed on the horizon. I whipped out my phone and said I was going to take a picture, wanting to get the snow behind us and not the blue sky. In addition, I wanted friend Karen to see the hat she made me, covered with snow. I took a couple of shots and turned the phone to look at them. “John!” I demanded. “Why did you hide?”

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Now John is a good husband, one who does not intentionally antagonize his wife, even about photographs. He said, “I thought you were just getting yourself. I didn’t know I was in it.”

His statement had a ring of truth. My hands were cold, so I laughed as we continued walking. He was probably thinking, “Whew! Ducked that one!”

Here is the first photo.  What do you think?  Did he see the camera aimed as us and take cover????

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I’m convinced the clouds read my thoughts about not pulling for snow. Note to self: mentally push snow away so you’ll get more.

The blue sky did not win that battle, after all.  We got more snow after we got home, and I enjoyed watching every flake.  Snow blanked out the mountains as the sun beamed on the pasture.  Flakes showed against the brown post.  Yea, Snow!

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Sneaky Snow

It’s a good thing I didn’t know snow was forecast, otherwise I might have gotten up several times during the night to peek outside. As it was, I saw the flaky symbol just before going out to walk. I thought, “Yeah! Right! Snow! Tell me another one. All those times you said it would snow last week and nothing came? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Looking at the map, I saw a big blob of gray. With my luck it would slide right by. Marla was out with dog Albert, and I told her snow was close. As we chatted, first one flake and then another flitted by. Snow was really coming down as I strode down the big hill. I took a photo at the stream, hoping to show the flakes. Some were already sticking to the boulders.

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Coming back, I needed a shot to show John that Qualla was white. At that moment he was having breakfast with grandson David in NY.

021216 Snowy Qualla.JPG

The toy camera insisted we take Amy’s house, because Amy was in South Carolina. She would need to know what she was missing.

021216 Amy's house in snow.JPG

The camera also said my now white hair should be recorded. That little gadget has a sense of justice, uncommon for a camera. If I accidentally take unflattering photos of others, I should be willing to expose myself to the same treatment. I didn’t realize it would be a front and back selfie.

021216 Selfie front and back.JPG
Anne collared by snow

I wondered what I would do with John away. When you’ve been with someone over 50 years on a daily basis, you don’t take that absence lightly. I usually soak up the silence, but this time I put on some Celtic music in the living room. Did I strain to hear it? No, it was blasting, and I could hear every note three rooms away. Evidently, this was going to be a day of surprises.