Loving the Winter Weather |
The Spectacular Now Of Winter |
Photograph of Long Point by Evie Joy or Ansel Adams? |
Saturday Morning at 7:40 |
Lovely Dark and Deep |
Snow Shoeing Victoria |
Frosted Pine Boughs |
Santa Claus? |
Blue Skies, Frosted Bent Trunks |
Red Squirrel Hell |
Red Squirrel Confused |
Cross Country Skiing Woodlawn |
For dinner, we had leftovers, some soup, bread, and veggies, and we were happy enough as we watched the last episode of one of our favorite series, Parenthood. Unfortunately, it was sappy, not what we wanted, a paean to family, and they lose Zeke, the patriarch at the end. And I dislike intensely scenes where the family happily play a game of either baseball or touch football, excited and joyous. I have never had fun at a family football or baseball game, sorry. Usually, Dad ends up running over one of the kids or someone screams or cries, running off the field in a pique. It's only fun and exciting in the movies or on TV. Our favorite ending remains the end of The Killing and our all time, the last two minutes of the movie Cinema Paradiso. It always brings both Evie and me to tears.
I am including a poem I really enjoyed from yesterday's Writers's Almanac; you may have to be somewhere around my age for it to make most sense. Enjoy!
From Our House to Your House
It is 1959. It is the cusp of the coming revolution.
We still like Ike. We are still afraid of Sputnik.
We read Life magazine andSports Illustrated
where the athletes grow up shooting hoops
in the driveway, playing catch in the backyard.
We sit on our sectional sofa. My mother loves
Danish modern. Our pants have cuffs. Our hair
is short. We are smiling and we mean it. I am
a guard. My father is my coach. I am sitting
next to him on the bench. I am ready to go in.
My sister will cheer. My mother will make
the pre-game meal from The Joy of Cooking.
Buster is a good dog. We are all at an angle.
We are a family at an angle. Our clothes are
pressed. We look into the eye of the camera.
“Look ‘em in the eye,” my father teaches us.
All we see ahead are wins, good grades,
Christmas. We believe in being happy. We
believe in mowing the lawn, a two-car garage,
a freezer, and what the teacher says. There is
nothing on the wall. We are facing away
from the wall. The jungle is far from home.
Hoses are for cleaning the car, watering
the gardens. My sister walks to school. My
father and I lean into the camera. My mother
and sister sit up straight. Ike has kept us
safe. In the spring, we will have a new car,
aPlymouth Fury with whitewalls and a vinyl top.
We still like Ike. We are still afraid of Sputnik.
We read Life magazine and
where the athletes grow up shooting hoops
in the driveway, playing catch in the backyard.
We sit on our sectional sofa. My mother loves
Danish modern. Our pants have cuffs. Our hair
is short. We are smiling and we mean it. I am
a guard. My father is my coach. I am sitting
next to him on the bench. I am ready to go in.
My sister will cheer. My mother will make
the pre-game meal from The Joy of Cooking.
Buster is a good dog. We are all at an angle.
We are a family at an angle. Our clothes are
pressed. We look into the eye of the camera.
“Look ‘em in the eye,” my father teaches us.
All we see ahead are wins, good grades,
Christmas. We believe in being happy. We
believe in mowing the lawn, a two-car garage,
a freezer, and what the teacher says. There is
nothing on the wall. We are facing away
from the wall. The jungle is far from home.
Hoses are for cleaning the car, watering
the gardens. My sister walks to school. My
father and I lean into the camera. My mother
and sister sit up straight. Ike has kept us
safe. In the spring, we will have a new car,
a