It's a winter wonderland out there. The snow started early this afternoon, and campus shut down around noon. Stephen and I stayed late to tie up the last loose ends at the office before leaving for a lengthy break, and walked home together through hushed streets as the sky turned from blue to purple to that particular shade of orange created by street lights reflecting off a dense blanket of clouds. The sidewalks were thick with snowdrifts, so we walked right in the middle of the street, moving aside when cars appeared. It was quiet and still on the side streets; we felt like we were in another world, a dream world, or underwater. I love snow almost as much as I love fog. I like weather that makes the world feel closer to you. It makes me think of Fog, one of the first Carl Sandburg poems I ever read. Here's another of his that I like:

Prairie Waters by Night

Chatter of birds two by two raises a night song joining a litany of running water--sheer waters showing the russet of old stones remembering many rains.

And the long willows drowse on the shoulders of the running water, and sleep from much music; joined songs of day-end, feather throats and stony waters, in a choir chanting new psalms.

It is too much for the long willows when low laughter of a red moon comes down; and the willows drowse and sleep on the shoulders of the running water.

And this one:


Hats, where do you belong?
what is under you?

On the rim of a skyscraper's forehead
I looked down and saw: hats: fifty thousand hats
Swarming with a noise of bees and sheep, cattle and waterfalls,
Stopping with a silence of sea grass, a silence of prairie corn.
Hats: tell me your high hopes.



Ah, December: one of my favorite months of the year. Winter is new and exciting; the semester draws to a close and holiday visits commence; Christmas lights are everywhere; the first snow falls. We had a picturesque flurry this weekend, just heavy enough to look beautiful outside the window but not so much that it required manual removal. We put up our little fakey-fake tree on Sunday night, and I think that's all we're doing in the way of holiday foliage this year, except for a real wreath on the door. I love the smell of a live tree, I really do, but they're expensive and the Christmas season seems really short this year, and last year we were vacuuming up escaped needles until May. (Those little buggers go everywhere!) So it's a scent-free, shed-free, tinseled-up Christmas 2008 for us Cantibrigians.

I have a stack of books about a foot high on deck for the Book Club of One, so guess what I did when we went to Belmont last weekend? Marched right into Barnes and Noble and bought another one, of course. I was feeling brain-fried, so I went to the YA section and looked for the funnest cover I could find. Here's what I ended up with. It's a light and quick read, a big change of pace from my last book, which was about the Holocaust. I'm okay with something fluffy right now. Mmm, fluff. Marshmallows.

Which reminds me, did I ever mention the Union Square Fluff Fest that we went to back in September? We missed the first two in 2006 and 2007, but finally made it this year. Wow, there were so many marshmallow-based activities to behold! There were Fluff t-shirts, Fluff posters, Fluff letterpress, Fluff magnets, Fluffernutter sandwiches, and a Fluff hairstyling contest. (Yes, that part was kind of gross.) Stephen got a Fluff comic book and I got a t-shirt that says "What the Fluff?". I like to wear it when I'm doing laundry because it seems like the ultimate laundry day shirt, all softness and laziness and comfort food. Mmm, comfort food.



attending Midnight Madness
finishing up the last PowerPoint of the semester
anticipating Taza factory tour
experiencing arthritis?!
considering acupuncture
listening to Kate Nash (Warning: sound.)
Is it just me, or does she look a bit like the young Fred Savage at times? Something about the cheeks/chin, I think.
looking forward to sleep