Snow Is A Beautiful Silencer

A couple of things that bear saying: it is blaringly obvious that I am undermedicated right now.  I can't afford to return to the psychiatrist and we were only in the middle of our efforts to adjust my meds to work better.  Then I missed an appointment and he charged me for it and I couldn't afford to return.  Bastard.  I intend to write him a letter.  He always rushes me and I basically spend $105 for 15 minutes a session.  I have been on the verge of tears pretty much constantly all week and in general am insanely fragile.

Another thing is that it might be important for me to commit to listening to nothing but Cuban music for the new year because everything else makes me want to cry but the upbeat gritty voicey lusty rhythmic stuff sung by the female Cuban legends (Celia Cruz and Celina Gonzalez) seem to lift me up like a bright paper lantern lighting up a smokey dark midnight porch.

The weather forecast for the next ten days stated, unequivically, that we are to have rain.  RAIN.  And then some more rain.  Well, as it happens I love rain.  I still love it now that I'm living in the Pacific Northwest.  I will never stop loving rain.  But the weather forecast was completely wrong.  We woke up to snow!  It was snowing and I must say I sighed a very deep and pathetically happy sigh watching it come down through our slightly frosted windows.

I worked all morning and when I finished in the afternoon just before two it started snowing all over again even though the weather report still claimed nothing but pouring rain.  It took some time to shower, suit up, and get the cobwebs out of the winter boots...but Max and I got out there thinking that it would stop at any moment.  He threw some snowballs for Chick who, like the rest of us here, LOVES snow and I let the waves of giddy joy rise up because I've had precious little of it lately.  It was just so happy.


It kept falling so quietly and so we took advantage.  We have learned to snatch at happy moments when they come because they don't seem to be easily conjured...mom and son headed out to the cul-de-sac to engage in a raucous snowball fight which lasted about 45 minutes.  We engaged in Kung Fu evasion tactics; chased each other with monster snow balls, and Max made a snow monster in the middle of our round road.  We don't do angels here.

We stopped frequently to eat some snow.  Snow is a peculiar substance to shove in one's mouth; made of water it feels strangely dry if the flakes are powdery; it is cold and dry and cottony but then melts and tastes like blue.  Like the best part of childhood.  Like surprises when they don't kill you the way clowns and balloons can.  It is the food of happiness. 

After we threw and dodged snowballs by ourselves in the cul-de-sac (the only other family here waited until we were gone to come out and play!!!!) we decided to take a little walk.  Max doesn't do "walks".  If you say "Hey, why don't we go on a little walk?" he will undoubtedly say "BORING".  However, it just so happens that nothing is boring in the snow.  It is especially fun to notice how so many people are dire wimps and can't bear to be out in it.  It's like our little family and a few other brave souls own the whole town.

Snow is beautiful.  The more it shuts people in and inconveniences us all the better I love it.  It stops everything whenever it feels like it.  Every color is enhanced and deepened when coated with cold white.


Max and I walked a few blocks down the street to see his school yard completely buried in it.  We threw more snowballs, ate more, slid purposely in it (him), and made our way to our friend Amanda's house.  My thought was that if I have a moment of total happiness I should share that with a friend.  I wanted to walk to my friend Angela's house too but there's no way I could have convinced Max to go that far. 

By the time we knocked on Amanda's door my flimsy coat was soaking wet and so was my hair.  So we walked back home with promises of hot cocoa and a movie.

I really needed to cook but my time with Max was so happy and he was being so generous and sweet there was no way cooking could be as important as watching a movie with my cutie.  He made me have a cup of cocoa too which you may not appreciate for the act of love that was- I don't like cocoa.  I drank a cup in solidarity.  I had some lentils on salad and he had fish sticks and we watched "Shanghai Noon", a Jackie Chan favorite of ours particularly for the drunken bath scene. 

I was going to cut off the quality time with Max to attend to my many many responsibilities but he asked me if I wasn't going to play chess with him.