Missing Summer

Although I grew up in this state and though I find beauty and challenge in the snow and subzero winter weather, come January I am ready to skip to spring and summer. I long for mid to late April, after the blizzards are mostly behind us and the longer days mean snowmelt and warmer, sunnier weather. So I'm looking back on summer garden pictures and pining for those days...

 

 

black dirt and sprouting plants

 

 

 


rampant cucumber vines

 


smiling marigolds

 

 

 


 


soft and fuzzy mullein leaves

 

 

 


peppermint and lemon balm

 

 


hops climbing our arbor

 

 

 

 

 

 


sun through the trees



Man, am I missing green.

 

 

 

 

Snow Day

The plows have been moving snow all morning, since at least 4 a.m. The streets are clear for now, but light flurries keep drifting down and disappearing into the soft white roads and driveways and lawns. The pine trees by our house are dusted with snow and hanging heavy from it. What better way to spend the morning than sipping a cup of coffee by the window, wearing cozy slippers, and watching the snow and the cold on the other side of the glass.

We had snowfall and 40 mph winds yesterday. Visibility was awful. Schools were canceled. The evening cook called in to swap shifts with me, since she couldn't even see the end of her driveway. So today I am free, unexpectedly. And snow is to thank. I think for the first time in my adult life, I actually have a Snow Day. Now if only I had a toboggan...

=)

Ep. 22: Escape

People are people, no matter their age. Some will be kind, curious, rude, condescending, bitter, or funny, and so on. I’m an “old people chef,” and this is my journal.
--

Recycling
About midmorning,
amid smells of coffee and egg bake
and fried ham and steaming orange muffins,

I gather up the recycling
and head for the door,
a momentary escape:

In summer
I swim through suffocating humidity,
carboard in one hand,
imaginary snorkel in the other,
cottonwood leaves in the grove glimmering.

In fall
the crisp breeze carries
the tang of burning leaves
and thoughts of hay bales and hot cider.

Now, today,
the first snow swirls around me
as I walk
and watch
the scenery coated in white.

Pine and cinnamon and red ribbon
eclipse thoughts of dreary frozen smudged January ahead.

For now it is November and holidays are near.
Winter is here.

(copyright EA Schueller)