Snow.

 At long last, we have had snow. Like manna from heaven, like every kind of blessing.

These first pictures were taken the first day back to classes, last Tuesday the 21.

 This marks the end of the first two weeks of classes in the "Spring" 2014 semester. As I expected, it was all I could do to just manage. It's not that it's all trudging misery, it's just such a dramatic change of pace, it takes all my concentration to execute. Doesn't help that I had two viruses, back to back. The first day back to class I was just coming down with the one, and no sooner did I get over that than I got the worse one, fever and all. I've been in a sort of tunnel since then. But I do think I am emerging, and not just because I'm finally healthy and it's 50 degrees and sunny out.

I just needed to investigate the new terrain, that's all.

 The classes I'm captioning (all Sociology) are all varying degrees of interesting and manageable. I've been drafted to participate in a couple of office projects, so my free office time is waning. The class I'm taking FOR ME ("Love, Sex, and Marriage in Medieval Literature") is as self-indulgent as a box of truffles, yet as necessary and bolstering as a hot shower. It is amazing what investing in yourself can do for the rest of your life.

 It's amazing what a sacrament snow can be. This most recent one was so dry and so cold it seemed made of tiny, fuzzy diamonds. I just marveled at it; such a different texture from the snows that usually fall in the mid-Atlantic states.

 I am ALL about gargoyles in the snow.

The children have had more snow days than we've ever had before, and it's affected us as it never has before, even closing the daycare (as well as Miles' preschool) a few times. Poor Jon has borne the brunt of it. I'm unwilling to use very much family personal time in January, since I plumb ran out of it before last year was over.

On Wednesday, though, I took some time off, giving Jon an opportunity to get out of the house and write.

And obviously, I stopped by CVS on the way home to buy a sled.

 Made the rest of the walk a bit awkward, but it was worth it!
 The mini-hill next to our building makes an excellent bunny slope!

 Miles seems to finally love sledding as much as my heart could desire.

Adele remains wary. She will not go willingly. 

 It was about 15 degrees at the time. But cold feels SO different when you are bundled up to sled, running up hills and whizzing down, compared to when you are simply trying to live your life, go to work, get to class, etc on a winter day.

The forecast for next weekend is riding the border between a good snowstorm and a yucky, messy "wintry mix." Pray for the former, won't you? An a Saturday we can really make use of this glorious new piece of plastic. 

This semester has included some early classes. This requires that I become again a person who takes the bus. The mornings are breathtaking. This can be negative: cold, tired and sick, or a joy. The effect the pre-dawn usually has, of seeming as if the earth is holding its breath, is enhanced when the temperature is so cold it is like an absence of atmosphere. On good days, I enjoy it. It feels like the universe is about to be recreated.

On other days, I just keep moving. KBO: Keep Buggering On, as Bridget Jones enjoined.

Beauty in the ugly: the view outside my office building.

And here I am at my desk. You seen my arsenal of books, like photos of friends. You notice my Hogwarts Letter, still a talisman against much. Up and down, back and forth, and onward we go. And also around.

Tomorrow is Imbolc! The Feast Day of Saint Brigid. Does it do your heart any good to remember that the ewes are lactating? It does me! Does it do you good to remember the life of Saint Brigid? How she loved the poor? How she did miracles of bounty involving simple food and drink?

How she prayed for a lake of beer that would last forever and refresh us all? 

How I do love her prayer: 

I should like a great lake of beer for the King of Kings.

I should like the angels of Heaven to be drinking it through time eternal.

I should like excellent meats of belief and pure piety.

I should like the men of Heaven at my house.

I should like barrels of peace at their disposal.

I should like for them cellars of mercy.

I should like cheerfulness to be their drinking.

I should like Jesus to be there among them.

I should like the three Marys of illustrious renown to be with us.

I should like the people of Heaven, the poor, to be gathered around from all parts.

I will see you there!

Life under this sky

We are a people of the sunset these days.

The sun has been setting just at the time that I leave work and make my way to the daycare to claim the little people. Every single evening, no matter what the weather has been, the sky is anywhere from softly lovely to breathtaking.

It's a sight for my sore office eyes. I think I have mentioned before that I have no window in my office?

We are adjusting to a routine which is growing less and less flexible as we approach the start of classes. We are less spontaneous, but we are perhaps more in the moment and contented.

Still, we've had a few opportunities to go off course and seize a moment. I grabbed the kids last week and ran out of the house "without a pocket handkerchief" if you understand, to enjoy a sunset that was illuminating half the sky.

From my window.

We danced under the orange sky for a while. The kids practiced rolling down a little hill. Adele surprised me by being a very skillful roller on her first try.

They are excellent at play. I'm so grateful for their example.

I like being an outdoor creature under a sky that glows.

I am, of course, back at work as of January 2. It has been office time, but the students are beginning to flow back into town. There is a stirring on campus. Tuesday is the first day of Spring Semester, 2014.

Spring has nothing to do with these skies, though.

I am back in yoga and some times there isn't a child shouting or clambering into my lap during staff pose or using my downward dog pose as a bridge to crawl under, sometimes I can meditate. Rodney Yee reminds me to feel the earth's energy beneath and I remember that on this same planet, the ocean is beating steadily and plants are germinating and tectonic plates are shifting slightly. On the other side of this planet, it is high summer. People are having the best and worst days of their lives. They are working the day shift, the night shift, and enjoying the twilight rest. It is hard to imagine how so many experiences go on simultaneously. But the planet supports them all. Somehow, this is a soothing thought. Whatever the day hold, the earth will support it. And it will not cease to turn and the seasons will not cease to change.

Slowly.

The solar panels at Virginia Tech straining to catch winter rays.

Sometimes I come home and it's all I can do to observe the routine.

Other nights... I am on a mission to dance. We like to turn on Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder and others that Jon can tell about more than I can, and do what feels right.

Miles invented the Wild Moose last week. Look for it in a club near you!

After the Polar Vortex had released us from its grip, we got outside a bit more. Sunday was sunny and in the 50s, more of a classic Southern Winter experience.

The kids didn't even wear overcoats to the playground.

There is a caboose at this playground, to the delight of all Blacksburg children.

We have yet had no snow to speak of. Nothing that's stuck. Miles and I saw sleds at Kroger the other day and he wanted to buy one. I spoke distractedly: "I don't think we'd better. If we buy one, it probably won't snow." He was confused. "...Mummy, we can still buy a sled even if it's not snowing." He is too much of a child to be superstitious. Or cynical.

Burruss Hall.

I am going to be seeing a lot more of the drillfield this semester. I'll have to cross it four times a week in the mornings. I'm anticipating a fairly full schedule this semester. Still, now that I've seen the syllabus for my class and paced out the route I'll take, I'm feeling more battle-ready. I know it will be full. I also know I can do it.

Frost on the drillfield. Gone by mid-day.

In the evenings on office days, this has often been my first glimpse of the outdoors since 8am. Seven times a day the bells in Burruss Hall (see above) ring out music. Sometimes I can't identify it. Sometimes it's classical tunes; other times, it's the Beatles. No matter what, it seems to come from everywhere. In the crisp winter air it sounds like the music of the spheres.

We're off to get the kids. Don't worry; I wasn't driving this day.

We say, "Help, Thanks, Wow" prayers each night, Miles & I. Usually, we finish with some version of, "Wow, God. The sky was so beautiful today!" It's extravagant of God to paint one of a kind masterpieces in the sky, at every moment, art that changes constantly and disappears in time.

Every single moment. Every single day. The sky is different. I close with a word from brother G. K. Chesterton:

Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.

(From Orthodoxy )

Joy and Fun in the Heart of Winter

 Above, shining weirdly in the eerie green light, is the only snow I've seen in Blacksburg this winter. I am coping with this about as might be expected.

We're trying to keep our spirits up as best we can in the SW Virginia version of the polar vortex.

Improvised boats and rides therein, for example. 

We enjoyed a visit with our friends in the country (25 minutes away but still!):

And we are so glad to be back in church. We just love being there; it is really a second home.

Toddler mates.

Thanks for my new dress, Grandma!

Amos, another nursery star. 

There isn't always room for Mr. Cool in the baby room. 

Miles & Baden can conquer the world! Or at least Children's Chapel.

Back home, where the Wild Things are.  

I don't want to give too much away, but let's just say I just got a letter that was VERY MUCH to my taste:

 It contains an invitation to something which will happen this summer and which has given me an inestimable amount of joy to anticipate. Come on, summer!

Alas, January remains, bleak, cold, and still, snowless. Ouch.

Preschool was cancelled simply due to cold yesterday. Today, there was a delayed opening, so Jon and Miles killed time with a walk at the duck pond.

 This is about as much ice as I can remember seeing on the Duck Pond.

Winter wisdom: keep swimming, keep breathing, keep moving so you don't freeze in place.

Once the Fahrenheit rises into the 20s, I can start to love winter again, and can appreciate its wisdom. All things must rest, sleep, even die, but that does not mean they should be considered as lost.

Besides, we know birdsong by its absence, sunshine by darkness, and the value of the blood in our limbs by the freezing quality in the air in winter.

Marilynne Robinson agrees with me:

"To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow. For when does a berry break upon the tongue as sweetly as when one longs to taste it, and when is the taste refracted into so many hues and savors of ripeness and earth, and when do our senses know any thing so utterly as when we lack it? And here again is a foreshadowing -- the world will be made whole."

-From Housekeeping