Pine Delight

It's the 19th of January and I'm not suffering any seasonal melancholia yet.  It's a January miracle.  This winter feels... eventful.  Let's credit the colossal snow storm we got 8 days ago.  Jan 11, 2013 (Cosmically 20 years to the day of the last school-closing snow storm.) There are heaps and towers and piles and stacks and mounds of snow.  Of course the day it came down was full of snuggling and warm drinks and feeling like reading and writing for 52 hours straight.  But the continuing majesty of it is keeping me non-melancholic.  This time January isn't just some chilly temperatures, hazy skies and dirty streets.  This is WINTER in all of its glory and spectacle.  This is something to be experienced and appreciated.  See the tree above?  I want to lick it.  I want to pluck all of the pine trees out of the ground and slide the snow off into my mouth like olives off of a toothpick with one graceful slurp.  What will it taste like?  Cream?  Cream on what?  Something that honors the pine, but I can't really go with the prickly thing....

Those trees have been holding onto that snow for days and weeks now.  It's their winter coat, keeping them safe from the elements.   I can't take it all in by just looking at it.  I want to put a hand to the whole thing all at once.  Tricky, as the result would undress them immediately.

When I was little it was popular to put slim silver streamers on your Christmas tree to make it look like it had icicles on it.  I never cared for the look but I also didn't understand it.  Now I do.

It is the year of the icicle.  (The spelling of that word is counter-intuitive to me. Icecycle? Icycle? Eyesikle in German. No wait, that's Eiszapfen) They are everywhere.  On every roof, on signs, bushes, trees, power lines, cars, railings. They are getting long and menacingly beautiful.  (Someone told me in Moscow they have snipers who shoot the icicles off of buildings so they don't drop and hurt anyone walking below.  They're a serious hazard in the spring, killing a handful of people every year in Russia.)

So this is Winter 2013 so far.  Hazelnut steamers have become a house specialty around here.  J is surviving temperatures in the single digits before school with warm breakfast drink and a shot or two of Irish Cream.  d is heating up rice bags around the clock and the electric blanket Rich got me for Christmas is my nightly indulgence.  Ski guards her cherished socks which are only allowed to be washed while she is in a warm bath, and D is hoarding quilts. Staying warm has become a gratifying pastime for the whole family.  40 more days until the calendar says March.  What will Spring be like if I'm not trying to recover from Winter?