Snow and Salt, Warm and Toasty

For my blog today
Haiku will tell a story
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Snow blows once again
There is no more sand to sea
Drift and fly around

Crank the thermostat
Mother f’ing frigid cold
Where are my wool socks?

Brave to step outside
Have to walk to Post Office
Pull hat and scarf tight

Wind off the water
Inhale the thick salty air
Exhale looks like fog

Flakes land on my tongue
The neighborhood starts quiet
Kids come out to play

Building snow people
Use rocks for silly faces
Finish it with smiles

Packages are mailed
One last icy shot of cold
Take a deep breath. Go!

Leave boots by the door
Slushy snow melts on the rug
Make a cup of tea

Eighty five degrees
In my imagination
Southwest sings my name

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Raisins and A Great Big Pineapple Bouffant

I woke up this morning remembering one of my dreams from last night. This happens to me most days; generally they are about family or friends. Sometimes I even wake up smiling because of my dreams, despite the fact that it is morning, and carry the fun vibe with me throughout the entire day. I can not help but think however that last night I apparently smoked some crack or ate banana peels before bed without realizing it because upon waking I even said to myself ‘what the f?’

Before I divulge the details of my crazy dream it would help if you knew a little background information to truly get the full effect of the insanity.

I am a fairly small gal, 5’-2”, with chin length reddish-brown hair. My hair is bone straight but has a lot of volume about 1” down from my scalp so I lovingly refer to it as my ‘brown football helmet’. This I stole from Steel Magnolias because it just seemed so fitting for my coif. Mine is not quite this big but hey, it was the 80’s.

Those of you who know me know that I am a stalker of Jason Mraz music. I can not seem to get enough of the fat-cat’s-scat and meaningful lyrics that just flow so well into his groovy tunes. He blends pop and jazz seamlessly with freaky psychedelic sounds and hand drumming. It may sound strange but give it a listen and you will see what I mean. His long time hand drummer is a guy named Toca. Here’s a shot of Toca (thanks Jennifer Fong).

Final related material: I do not live with my mom, I am organized & free of clutter to the point of OCD, Maple is my favorite wood and I do not like little girlie hair clips.

So the dream went something like this…

My Mom comes into my bedroom to tell me that Toca is here. Well of course he is, why wouldn’t he be at my house? I tell her I need a minute to get ready so tell him to wait. She leaves and I look around what I can only presume is my bedroom. The lighting is very dim, if there is even a light on at all, and there is crap everywhere that makes all the dark wood furniture seem that much darker. Piles of papers line every wall, hundreds of chotchkies fill every square inch of space on top of my dresser and other furniture pieces and I see all kinds of banners & ribbons hanging from the ceiling. The walls are stark white, but look grey in the light, and the shades on two enormous windows to my right are drawn tight.

Now before hanging out with Toca a girl obviously needs to freshen up to look her best so I cross the room to the other dresser with a large mirror. I glance at myself and for reasons unknown nod with approval at what is looking back at me. There is my face, my tiny bod and a two foot tall bouffant of twisted nappy hair bobbing around on top of my head. To add insult to this do I have apparently decided that there need to be hundreds of little hair clips in varying fluorescent colors strewn about it. There are little birds, smiling faces and tiny animals in every shade of hot pink, electric blue and lavender that a girl could ask for. For those who may not know what a bouffant is, think Marge Simpson (without the blue of course, there was enough of that color in the clips).

Finally, before any hang time I must check my podcasts so once again I cross the room and somehow manage to locate my iPod in all those hummels. I click through the buttons to get to what I am looking for and watch the show with great delight. There dancing around is a California Raisin with the face of Jason Mraz. Oh yes his little shuffling feet cause me to giggle with glee and he is even wearing a signature Mraz fedora.

It looked a little something like this:

I watch for what seems like hours and then suddenly I am sitting on a sofa next to Toca. We chat away about who knows what but he never laughs at my hair. That is a true gentleman right there.

I awake to realize that my brain is apparently stranger than fiction.

Random Thoughts on All Things Winter

The first thing I need to throw out there is my complete distaste for Santa’s reindeer. Well all but Rudolph of course. A friend of mine sent out one of those “getting to know your friends” emails. I get sucked in every time so I answered it and sent it off. One of the questions asked “Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer?” so I said yes but I would not repeat their demon names because they are evil. A friend called me out on it and I wondered how she could not know my true feelings on this subject after all these years. Here is the email I sent back to her (edited for grammar). Take it for what it is.

“ok the thing w/ the reindeer...poor freaking Rudolph is just a little bit different & all those "chosen" beeatches just taunt him & never include him in anything...but oh how they need Rudolph’s little glowing nose when none of their sorry asses can lead that sleigh in the fog right? I mean come on, if they couldn't see the awesomeness of Rudolph before how can he ever trust them to be his real friends after that blizzard right? Rudy was just looking for some friends but I think he should have told those losers to pound sand & then took off for Manhattan or Harvard Square or somewhere where he would fit in just for being himself & not have to prove to anyone that he was kick ass”

The next important thing to note about winter in New England is even though the weather dudes can predict a storm that is no indication as to what type of insanity it will bring to a commute. I wrote a while ago about trying to imagine I was dreaming about the dusting of snow we got here at the beach. Picture me cackling hysterically when this happened yesterday.

Yeah. It actually took Matt about eight hours to get home yesterday. Four of those were to make it less than one mile from his office. He left work at 1:00. Of course so did everyone else. Visions of the Blizzard of ’78 came rushing back to all of us as hundreds, maybe thousands, of cars were abandoned in the middle of the highway because people ran out of gas. Either that or they decided to walk home because it would be faster.

On the positive side of all this crazy winter stuff is how helpful people can be and that neighbors will actually pitch in to give a hand to each other. I spoke with my Mom this morning and a neighbor on her street, who she has never spoken to before, came over last night to help her shovel her very large driveway. My neighbor called me yesterday to suggest I turn my car around before the snow so I would be able to get out of here if need be. On the news there were hundreds of shots of people helping to push each other’s cars. Even as of now I have heard of no incidents of road rage, major accidents or otherwise bad tidings anywhere. Being helpful and patient is really what the spirit of this holiday season is all about.

The final random and positive factor of winter living is when one lives at the beach people are really cool and I will even admit the scene is really pretty. To take all these photos I decided to walk towards the center of town (a term I use very loosely) by way of the beach and stop into the post office on the way back via the street. The beach walk was fun and funny as my boots sunk into the foot of virtually untouched snow to get down to the rocks. There was only one other person down there and as you can see by the tiny black dot near the water’s edge, they were nowhere near me.

Here is a more artsy shot I couldn’t pass up snapping even though it meant trudging through a huge drift that must have had me sink about 20” into the sandy snow.


Every single person I came in contact with was smiling, said hello or even chatted. There was a guy shoveling right by this public beach entrance who was really nice.


My final contact was at the post office where everyone, including the Post Master General, was laughing, singing or generally just in a great mood. I met a boy and his grandma who were about to go and build a snowman. A kind older gentleman held open the door for me & made a point to say that ladies are always first. The Post Master told the woman in front of me, who was having trouble with her credit cards, that he would wait for her to get back with cash even though he was already past the standard lobby hours. Of course he did say “Don’t go and have lunch first.”

As I walked back there was actually a smile on my face for the first time all winter. I didn’t even mind when I narrowly avoided being slushed by the passing cars or that the bottom of my jeans were soaked and freezing my little legs. It was just nice to know that there is still a community in the northeast where people can avoid being rude at this time of year and even smile despite the knowledge that another foot of snow is coming our way in a couple days. Come to our beach town Rudolph, there are wonderful, accepting people here.