There’s no cabin involved. It’s just me and I’ve been trapped in hundreds of pounds of clothes since October. That’s a long time to be squatted inside, virtually immobilized, and living like Jabba the Hutt. This entire season, which barrels along as I type, has been wall-to wall gloom with bitter wind and brutal, punishing … Continue reading : this ain’t cabin fever :
Tag: winter
: a policy change :
When I woke up yesterday, it was 6º below zero. I opened the drapes and looked out on chimneys and floaty plumes of steam, crusty snow, stark, black trees with arms raised skyward in silent supplication — in other words, a bleak tableau. Every morning is the same, nothing changes, winter barrels on unabated. And, … Continue reading : a policy change :
: more than snow is plummeting to the ground:
All right, that does it. I’m taking off my thinking cap and packing up my little computer. I refuse to work under these barbaric conditions. Snow is falling. And so, by the way, is my enthusiasm. Frankly, I can’t decide which is worse: the snow or the lethargy. Snow piles up and it’s a pain … Continue reading : more than snow is plummeting to the ground:
: winter-induced claustrophobia :
Our recent plunge into subzero weather has transformed me from a spindly old dame into a stout, full-figured Russian nesting doll. I’m literally encased inside layer after layer after layer of thick, weighty, wooly clothes. I’m not so much dressed as upholstered -- in a grossly overstuffed sense. As a consequence, walking is but a … Continue reading : winter-induced claustrophobia :
: a day for puttering :
Oy, such a miserable morning to walk a dog. A streaming rain fell as traffic hissed on wet, puddled pavement. It was windy and it was cold; raindrops landed like icy shrapnel. The sky was a grim, leaking canopy of despair, utterly cheerless. Nevertheless, there we were, plashing along a marshy sidewalk. I, as you … Continue reading : a day for puttering :
: do not go gentle :
Yep, I ripped off the poetry of Dylan Thomas to rage against the dying of the light. In other words, to rage against autumn. It stinks. Labor Day, as we all know, is the death knell for summer. Can someone please explain why that’s an occasion to celebrate? What is wrong with people? We shouldn’t … Continue reading : do not go gentle :
