Snow Angel

snowstorm, New England winterI hate winter. I hate snow. I hate cold, I hate ice. I mutter these words as I climb out of my soul-less and hateful car, which has just broken down on Route 2 in the middle of a once-in-a-decade blizzard.

I can’t stay in the car because the engine is dead. Kaput. Lifeless and useless. I’ll freeze if I sit in the silver-metal icebox, so I trudge ahead, looking for some kind of sign of life.

And then I see it. Or her. Or whatever he/she/it/they is. A human-like form of gossamer silver and white, waving towards me. She (for I tend to think of angels as she), is either one-half a mile away, or two yards. With the snow whipping across my face it’s hard to tell. Continue reading

Grand at the Mirror

winter scene, snow, windowI’m trying desperately to avoid the knocking.

At first I thought it was the sound of one of “my” hummers knocking on the bedroom window. All summer I’d watched the hummingbirds sprint around our feeder hanging just outside the window, their long thin pointy tongues drawing sweet water out of the teeny tiny hole meant to mimic the center of a flower.

But it’s now December, the hummers have sensibly flown to warmer climes, and I’m here staring out at the window, listening to the knock on glass. But nothing is across from me on the other side of the window but falling snow.    Sighing, I cross the room to my antique dresser, the one that belonged to my great-grandmother, who died years before I was born. I stand before the large oval mirror joined at the top of the dresser and framed with mahogany.  Yes, there she is. Great-Grandmamma, tapping her fingernail on the other side of the speckled mirror, waiting impatiently.Pixabay images, antique mirror Continue reading

Late for Work

hummingbird, late for workIt all began with the hummingbirds, sir.

Yes, Mr. Grant, I’m serious. I awoke in plenty of time to get to work by 8:30, but as I got out of bed, I heard a noise outside and peered out my window.

No, not my boyfriend’s window. I was home. I have a hummingbird feeder located right outside my bedroom window, and the hummers come every early morning and then at dusk.

I’m trying to tell you what this has to do with the fact that I was two hours late, sir, I am getting to the story.http://sbdcrn.blogspot.com/2013/12/things-not-to-ask-on-job-interview-lou.html Continue reading

Chiming In

chimes, fairies, evening dance, blogThe chimes persisted. As I tossed and turned in my bed, sheets askew, a sheen of sweat layered on my body, I really couldn’t tell if I was imaging the tiny tinkling sounds, or if they truly existed.

I’d watched the clock sneak slowly across its yellow-lit globe: 1:01 a.m., 1:10, 1:21, 1:44, 2:01, knowing I should make my eyes stay shut. Surrender to sleep like a bear surrenders in his winter cave. But I felt more like a fox, wide awake in the sleeping hour, needing to explore and hunt in the starry night. Continue reading

Orphan Plants

office plants, PixabayAt first, they were all silent.

After all, they’d been alone before, on what the “Others” called “weekends.” And sometimes they were alone for a longer time when a particular Other went away on something called a “Vacation.”

But they’d never been left for this amount of time. And they’d never been all together in one large room. Continue reading