Here it is. Bleak mid-winter again. Well, almost I suppose. We're only in the beginning of January for God's sake so realistically we've got months ahead of us. What used to be a time for contemplation and quiet soul searching has become well.... cabin fever mania. Cabin cholera you could say. Or not. Either way my opinion of this isolation changes by the day or by the hour depending. I love the sight of the snow, the quick burn of it against my cheeks as I race out with my babes loading them up in a car packed to the roof in extra gear. I love the idea of snow shoeing with Minnow on my back and Bean being pulled along behind in a sled. I love it just as much as I love all my ideals of parenthood in Vermont. Right now Jason's fulfilling my ideal so I can sit inside with a glass of wine and a toddling (!) 8 month old by a fire. He's out there with Beanie, both of them covered head to toe in layers and layers of gortex and fleece lying in the open snowy field staring up at that perfectly star filled sky. Perhaps the wolf moon is out tonight. Perhaps I should feel a tinge of guilt for not being there but I don't. I need this moment because it's one of the few I'll get. I need it to know that they exist. That life can be quiet and reflective.
