11/30/2014 by syrbal-labrys
…like snow silence. And the house is asleep. The youngest son, my Runaway Returned (after 15 years) sleeps late because he stays up till the wee dark hours of morning taking care of things to get on with making a living. His two dogs sleep with him, content in his bed as if one big pack of warmth.
The eldest son, the Manchild, has been sick for the last week and is trying to sleep himself healthy again. His Beloved is away in Tacoma, house sitting for her boss for the entire next month. And the Minotaur is off to an Urgent Care Clinic to get stitches examined on the hand he tore up last weekend. Retirement tasks are falling upon him, like a stack of overdue library books and he gets distracted and inattentive at times — doing so last week, he sliced open an index finger.
And yesterday the first snow fell, surprising me at its endurance on ground that was puddled with earlier rain. But this morning, that is all glittering ice because it fell into the “teens” last night. I left water running in the bathrooms last night and kept heat on in all the rooms. The hummingbird feeder was solid frozen this morning, but the saucerful of syrup under a spot light was liquid. I refilled that with fresh warm sugar syrup, and brought the frozen one inside to thaw. The hummingbirds were waiting for me, too, a ‘burrrrrrr’ of wings and chirps in the cold sunlight!
So, a sound muted Sunday morning in a house with only the faint scurry sound of Farley-ferret checking out the doggie depredations of the previous evening. He re-takes stolen toys to re-stash. Fen the terrier complains from lock-up in the den, little whines and sighs. The cat, wisely, sleeps in front of the fire, a silver-gray holiday card in the flesh.
A pile of blank cards, ruler, pencil, fountain pens, and a stack of photographs await me on the formal dining room table — Yule cards will be strenuously home-made this year using a favorite image I created upon the scanner. But that will begin tomorrow. Today is quiet and rest before a post-lunch flurry to be “cleaned up nice” to go to the ballet.
It is the last season that Seattle’s Northwest Ballet will do the Nutcracker Suite with Maurice Sendak’s scenery. The Manchild’s Beloved has long desired to see it, so we got tickets to take her. One could well imagine the Sugar Plum Fairy traipsing across the yard with snowflakes in her wake this morning! It is a fit opening to the Yule season here… a time of quiet observances of Nature, of warm food, pecan pies, cold drinks with a warmth within.
So, I sit back, in the last hour of quiet motionless bliss, watching ice shine through the windows with a cup of coffee. May you find some similar restful peace!