Wednesday, December 19, 2007

The day away

There is something about waking up in a house in the snow - a heavy silence, even quieter than usual for the country. And then of course I remembered that I was not alone - I had the ultimate responsibility for Dear Alex, her well being, her entertainment, her nourishment - all solo. I had the joy of waking up before Dear Alex, so I got to appreciate that silent cold not-quite-there-yet feeling as I made coffee and waited, thinking about lighting a fire, then about a book "A box of Matches" by Nicholson Baker, wherin the story (which goes charmingly nowhere) chronicles the thoughts of a man in the mornings over the course of using a box of matches. Duh. Did I say I considered lighting a fire? I didn't - only because I'd just have to clean it out and close up the house a few hours later, and there were other things to do, like start the pancakes, and figure out how the logistics of the day were going to work out. Breakfast and entertaining Dear Alex would be easy... And the day turned out to be a charm. We played in the snow, a soft deep dry cold weather snow, for about two hours. Dear Alex walked on the lake, fell on her butt, then fell down again on purpose in the soft stuff, and generally took the snow thing very seriously - pointing and gesturing and telling me that it was "white, and softee and smooth and cold." She pulled her baby-bathtub turned sled around for a while, then decided it was time to go in. I was frozen solid and glad to oblige. The rest of the day worked out pretty much as planned - a trip to the far-away local Wal-Mart for lunch, and a long drive back to the city. It felt like we'd been gone for days - but it was less than 24 hours. Sometimes you just need a little change. Dear Alex slept like a baby (forgive me) on the way home, and didn't wake until we were pulling into the garage. A nice warm bath, and she went to bed early without complaint - nothing like a few hours in the cold to wear out a two-year-old.
It would have been easier and far more practical to stay at home in the city, but then again it would have been the same as last weekend, and the weekend before, and the... I guess that the point is really to remember that it's about doing. What the hell. We had fun.

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