She's Got An Icy Grip, That One

This winter has contained everything you can imagine: whipping winds, blizzard white-outs, sub-zero weeks, slipping and sliding, and certainly the occasional power outage.  There was a time recently when the temperature, from one Monday to the next rose a full 70 degrees.  And I can't quite remember, but I'm pretty sure that it dropped at least 50 degrees again in the next two days.  The weather has been awesome.

Beautifully terrifying.  Terrifyingly beautiful.

Terrifying as an icy river, while you sit bobbing in your kayak, taking a momentary break to float gingerly downstream, perched just so, knowing that you are always on the verge of catching an edge and embarking on an arctic triathlon (paddle, swim, mountaineer), minus the survival suit.  But beautiful.

Beautiful, like a friend described at lunch the other day, is that moment when you need to venture down from your bear stand deep in the woods. But terrifying, with the nerve-wracking knowledge of the sow and two cubs milling around somewhere beyond your eyesight.  Don't worry though, they can see you just fine.

It is standing at the altar - beautiful.  Or rather, waking up a week later in bed to the realization that you had better get used to the pulsing aroma of that particular vintage of morning breath, because it is a gift from your soulmate, offered to you, forever.  Terrifying.

These are the sort of things to which we pay pretty sweet lip service, in hindsight.  After we survive them, of course.

How cool!  
Adventure of a lifetime!  
You wouldn't believe...!
What a story!

However, in that moment of the thrill, as you float down a river at 11PM with the sound of an upcoming rapid pounding against your eardrums and a full moon illuminating the surface foam, you can't decide whether it is literally-the-coolest-thing-you-have-ever-done or if it will literally be the last thing you ever accomplish in this lifetime.

The weather is that sort of deadly mistress.  My husband was in a car accident recently, and for me, the most alarming feature of the incident was not the rolling of the vehicle (no), the speedy launch into the woods (no), or even the potential for strandedness on an what used to be an old logging road to Canada (no).

By now, you are likely questioning what kind of wife I am.  Unnerving, isn't it?

What was most terrifying to me was the -15 degree evening temperature, plus windchill.  That fact, combined with the others is what still gives me a sour feeling in my stomach when I recall the day.  Would he be able to make the one mile walk to our driveway, then the three mile hike home?  In the dark?  In the biting, snapping cold and the snow?  This is the kind of cold that wraps its icy hands around the base of your neck and threatens to squeeze out your last breath as lightning fast as falling out of a tree knocks the wind from your lungs.  It's so cold that you gasp instantly as if you were standing naked in a shower of ice cubes.  You blink often because the mucous covering your eyes tends, like every other liquid, to freeze.  Your cheeks don't sting at this point because the surface nerves have stopped functioning, and you can't zip the neck of your jacket because the dexterity in your fingers is reduced to what would be playing the piano with ten blocks of cheese tied to your hands.

Thankfully (miraculously), C arrived home unscathed, thanks to a humbling amount of timely provision (friends, emergency personnel, kind sheriff, snacks), but the occasion serves as another reminder of the awesome dual nature of our weather:

it's terror, it's beauty.

This is precisely why we love the river.

Being in nature.

Living in the woods.

Taking risks.

Why exactly? Because, simply put - we cannot control these things.  The river, nature, the woods - they exist outside of our reach, and the moment you or I think that we have them under our thumb - the second the paddler lifts that blade out of the water and relaxes her grip - these things will level us with the strength of a thousand man-made engines.

And why on earth would this be good?

Because it reminds us of the greatness of what we've already been given in relation to the smallness of what we try to please ourselves with.  It reminds us that there is a great symphony being played around us all the time, but that we are busy banging on a piano with cheese block fingers.

And it promises that we will hear that beautiful music

if only we would stop making such terrible noise.

Ten Ways to Make Your Week Awesome

• The NBA playoffs.  I don’t know if you watch basketball, or if you even care, but trust me, it’s worth it for those 60 combined seconds of inspired play.   I can usually only stand to watch football on television, but last nights Celtics v. Knicks game was heart-thumping.  If you’re not really into the idea, I guess you could stab yourself with your kid’s epi-pen and watch the highlights instead.
• Get your hands on some Marshmallow Peeps.  Yes, it’s the season.  Go buy a variety pack, and see what you can't do with them.  Check out the Washington Post's annual Peep Show. 

source

• Download the FatBooth App.  Then use it on pictures of your sister from childhood.
• Observe the state of current commercial advertising.  I have a deep love affair with the way that marketing firms are taking on today’s television audience.  Dairy Queen doesn’t just have rainbows; they have rainbows on fire.  They don’t just have bunnies; they have old fashion shaving bunnies.  Old Spice features a man rising out of beach sand, strumming a guitar that opens to reveal a “romantic puppy surprise”.  Genius?  I think so.  Welcome to my mind.

• Dress for success.  By this I mean that you should, at least once this week, take a walk around outside in shorts and a t-shirt.  Or your bathing suit.  If I can do it with a foot of snow on the ground, and the possibility of my flip-flops slipping on the ice, you can do it wherever you are.  I want to win Mother Nature over on the idea of spring, and the best offense is a good offense, right?  So help me show her what she’s missing.  Are you with me?!
• Plan an imaginary vacation.  This is what I’m going to do this week.  In my imaginary trip, we’re spending 10 days in St. Lucia to snorkel and sunbathe and eat bacon every hour, on the hour.  What’s your plan?
• Host an adult Easter Egg hunt.  Now, I don’t mean that the eggs will contain something adult-oriented, which would produce an entirely different event.  What I do mean is that you should gather some friends and have an egg-hunting party that is physically, relationally, and emotionally challenging.  A small amount of eggs placed in outrageous locations is enough to make even the best of friends become violent adversaries. Eggs in trees?  Yes.  Down snake holes?  Uh huh.  Eggs filled with coffee gift cards or expensive stinky cheese?  Your friends and family will be like hyenas around a dead water buffalo. 
• Grill out.  This is easy.  Get it done.
• Start a garden.  This is for those of you who can.  Get to your favorite home and garden store, and get your green thumb on.  If I were you, I’d plant haricot vert, jalapeños, butter lettuce, snap peas, heirloom tomatoes, and mangoes.  And none of them would live past May.
• Try something new.  Get out and go rollerblading.  Volunteer at the SPCA.  Have some Guinness ice cream.  Rent a Segway and drive it down Main Street.  Go to a yoga class.  Eat a different donut every morning (unless you do that already, then step it up to duck liver and brie).  Say hello to everyone you see when you’re out walking.   Go out walking. 

I hope this list gives you the drive it takes to make it through another week with a smile on your face.  Remember, we only have today, so rock what your mama gave you and make some memories with your week. If you actually do any of the above, please share your story with the rest of us.  Now, get busy making the next seven days awesome.  I’m rooting for you.