Oh man

It's so good to be writing again... that was rather too long a break I took. I know we were moving and there was Christmas and all, but still...

The beckoning Bible

My gosh, the Bible has so many stories that lend themselves well to adaptation for performance, a playwright could make it her life's work...

Thinking warm

For the billionth time, I say, "This is the coldest winter I can ever remember!" Now, it's wonderful that this new apartment has a heating system that actually works well, but it's not good to just sit by it all day. That uses a lot of expensive energy. Better to use my own energy. The weather won't allow me outside, but I do have a vacuum cleaner-- and that's a warming activity! So is washing dishes, which it seems I'm always doing (small sink, no dishwasher). I absolutely don't want to do any more baking for a good long time, however warming that activity is, but no matter. I have weights and a rowing machine. It also helps to blast music, particularly that of a band called Indigenous, a Navajo hard rock band whom my brother and I saw in Philadelphia on an extremely hot afternoon in 2003. Remembering that these guys are Navajo also makes me think of driving through New Mexico with my Mom and absolutely baking in the heat. It just sounds too fabulous right now, let me tell you.

And it all works-- I'm not cold at present!

Gifts galore

I had kind of a 24-hour cold, if that's possible. I dunno. I definitely had cold symptoms, and then the next day I didn't. Fine with me! Since I didn't want to risk infecting my in-laws on Christmas day, we went over there on St. Stephen's Day instead and were smilingly showered with presents by two of the three young ones. They had opened the ones from us the day before. What made me smile most was the 3-pack of extremely cozy and very bright socks from my most bashful sister-in-law. She blushed nearly as red as the socks when I copiously thanked her. I'm wearing the candy-cane striped ones now, actually, and they're lovely and warm. If someone had given me those in San Diego I would have blinked and politely said thank you, but here they are the perfect gift!

Well, I feel great now, quite energetic, and I'm really hoping the ground will be safe enough to take a good long walk on today.

Have any of you ever seen the David Attenborough series, Blue Planet? My husband got it for me this year and we watched a section of it last night. It's wonderful... but you know, it is a nature program, so there is death. It's just the natural sort, animals killing animals, so it's nothing to get outraged about, but it was rough watching the pod of orcas killing the gray whale calf and leaving the mother to migrate alone-- and then they barely ate any of it after all. This series has me not liking Shamu's relatives all that much. I know it's instinct and all, it's what they do, but... y'know. Naturally I am a huge fan of Californian sea lions and gray whales, so I cheered when I saw them, but wouldn't you know, they were the ones to get snapped up by orcas.

Very like Tolkien's orcs, actually, these orcas... only considerably prettier.

Those sad bits aside, the series is mesmerizing, and the dolphins are so beautiful it could almost make you cry.

We had our first guests over the other night-- my two eldest sisters-in-law, all dolled up to go to Tigh Hughes and avoid weird men if possible (the younger of the two is a total weirdo-magnet, it just never fails). Since we're right in the village, they came up to see the new place. I was reminded of Rosemary Clooney and Vera Ellen in "White Christmas" and expected these two to break out in the "Sisters" song at any moment. It was a nice little visit.

My husband's got some time off from work, so I'm not sure when I'll seriously begin writing again. Poems have happened here and there, but no work on novels has been done since before we moved. That will change.

Shivering but smiling

Wow, the children's mass at the church in Salthill was a riot last night, rosy-cheeked yelling kids all over the place, including one who crawled up and petted me. I suppose in the big cuddly black coat I was wearing, I might've passed for a bear.

This morning my husband played in a handball tournament that pretty much took up the whole morning, and I got a bit too chilled in there-- I feel achy and feverish now! Hopefully it's just from being too cold, and once I can finally warm up I won't be like, sick. I pride myself on never getting sick anymore, and I'd feel so silly if I actually came down with something.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas Eve-Eve

One of my cousins and I used to call December 23rd this.

It's been a nice day, I made some German poppyseed cookies and listened to Mozart's "Die Entfuhrung Aus Dem Serail" (y'know, the Turkish one, about which in "Amadeus" Wolfie said fervently, "Oh-- German. Let it be German."). Don't know where the Germanic mood came from, but who cares?

I wonder if I'll get any Mozart Brains for Christmas? I hope so.

The cookies are lovely; all seedy and crunchy and curranty and dipped halfway in dark chocolate. They're a gift for someone.

It's still dreadfully icy out there. I scuff-skated over to Spar for some more lemons (I am always running out and I use them in recipes all the time-- how I miss lemon trees!!) and there was an extremely pungent drunk man lurching around in the shop, wishing everyone a Happy Christmas. The cashier, also a man, took it quite genially but the man behind me in line kept going "Chhhh! God!" in annoyance, and looking at me, I suppose to see if I was also perturbed. I wasn't, really. I don't care to be around drunk people generally, but this one wasn't being vulgar or scary, just full of holiday wishes. It was just a little sad that he was so wasted so early in the day (heck, sad that he was wasted at all). He couldn't have been more than mid-forties. He had the most blazing blue-red eyes.

Well, what are you gonna do?

Walking like hockey coaches

There's some pretty severe ice out there on the sidewalks. I ventured out yesterday because there were electricians in here (fixing the electric shower) and I joined the few stalwart walkers in scuffing, sliding, and flailing along. I only went as far as Spar and Walsh's for some provisions and then prayed my way across the street (no, I didn't float across on my knees or anything) to the Cruiscin Lan for a latte to warm up a bit. I worked on a poem there and tried to ignore the astounding stench cloud hovering over a group of Daytime Drunks. They can comb their hair. They can shave their faces. They can get themselves to the pub. But they cannot, apparently, bathe. (Dad, I wrote some of this in a letter to you, so pardon the redundancy!)

I may venture out to mail Dad's letter, but only later in the day and only if some of the ice has melted or grit has been put down. Walking conditions are actually worse than driving, for once. Yesterday afternoon I had my kitchen window open and I heard these terrible screams, it sounded like my mother killing a rat (that's another story) so I looked out in alarm and saw it was only two uniformed schoolgirls of about fourteen, skidding arm-in-arm on the sidewalk in their non-sensible school shoes. Boys' uniforms are far better suited to these weather conditions. Just a bit old-fashioned, isn't it? Like women are still considered expendable or something. The girls were not having fun; they seemed honestly scared! I'm glad they didn't fall. It didn't help that cars were honking at them and making them jump.

Well, I'm sure they own shoes with traction, and I'm sure if it's important enough, they'll get to wear them. It's not my job to save the world.