Wily Games of Winter

In the winter she curls up around a good book and dreams away the cold. ~Ben Aaronovitch, ~Broken Homes

He warned us with a boyish grin, inclement weather loomed. But basking as were, under cloudless skies and eighty degree warmth we remained unconcerned until dawn revealed the mountains; concealed by a blanket of darkness that poured into the valley like leftover gravy, and we froze.

It’s a safe bet that there were as many jackets as there were toys and games purchased that first frigid day – ha! And speaking of games, there’s one in particular on my mind today.

Requiring considerable concentration and a bounty of luck; Jenga® is a game that even cats are good at (according to the internet), and perfectly describes the structure of my work-a-day world.  All it takes is one integral piece—let alone two or three—to bring down the house, so to speak.  Although an unexpected collapse isn’t the end of the world, it can certainly be demanding; as evidenced by my abrupt disappearance.  Sorry about that, folks.

Besides, it’s Christmas!

So as I set my game back up and drag out all those merry memories from every Christmases past, of cookie smiles and Santa hats; gifts that can’t be wrapped, I’ll be thinking of all of my cyber friends too, as I take a holiday hiatus and send off sixty Christmas cards.  Does anyone still do that?

In the meantime I left a short Christmas story at Canyon Whispers and I’ll pop in on your posts whenever possible.  Until again, be warm, be well and above all be happy!

Merry Christmas!

Has It Been That Long?

“We have not the time to take our time” ~ Eugene Ionesco

 Uncounted are the seconds as we savor summer nights when the crackle of a campfire doesn’t quite call to mind the comfort of a fireplace in frigid winters past though the trickle of a thinning stream heralds change and falling leaves; concealing unobserved, our footprints, left in haste.

Unexpected is the dreary dawn when confident collars upend against the bracing wind of subtle change, and the roar of silence reigns with the sting of frostbite as we fear our tomorrows have  all run out and seek with fevered urgency the enchantment that once was. Has it been that long? In disbelief, we wonder.

Could this explain our actions when, with careful cause or reckless abandon, we sometimes rush headlong into, say, publication?  Been there. Done that.  And in a world that seems more impressed by quantity than quality, is it worth the obligatory ulcer? While some days are diamonds, some aren’t even gold-plated, so what keeps you going? What keeps that next sentence coming, that next paragraph flowing on a butter-side down day?

For me, a long walk, being in nature has the reassuring, as well as rejuvenating, effect of renewed purpose; as in everyone and everything.  I suddenly forget who I was mad at, why I ever thought for one second of abandoning the lively characters protesting in my head and that for just a moment, I almost lost hope.  But the value of having like-minded folks such as the Insecure Writer’s Support Group (where I’ve just imparted another rendition of my insecurities) around to share the adventure has proven immeasurable too.  I recommend it to everybody! Besides, much as I love them; I can’t talk to trees all day – ha!

Have you ever felt that time is running out?  What dissuades despair for you? 

Wednesday word(s):  Go Long!