Fairy dust

Snow on snow on ice on snow. The woods are full and branches heavy. There are frozen drops on the tips of all of the needles on the hemlock branches, and icicles as long as my arm hanging from all of the eaves. I am not sure there is much more beautiful than snow blown free with sunlight streaming in behind it, sparkling fairy dust.

But I am pretty much hating the new roof leaks, the bulging buckled paint, the orange edged stain that is creeping up and across the ceiling, and the feeling that the falling apart is outpacing our ability to keep it together.

It is the weather, I know. The confluence of snow and ice and melt and weight and the odd rules that water follows as it finds its way in. I spent today trying to focus on what is working, being warm and safe, being in the loving presence of my little one, being surrounded by such beauty.

The weekend whooshed by, and suddenly it is sunday night. I am facing monday with a knotted belly and a desire to stay up all night just to stretch the time between now and then. It feels a little night-before-exam-ish. I am looking forward to transforming this feeling into something else, something better, something life affirming, neutral even.

I have two meetings this week and hope to have another next week-- and two more to schedule. Babycare is hard to coordinate since we are not flush with options, but it is possible and I have to remember that and keep moving forward.

I keep having IDEAS and then, soon after, often soon upon sharing it, REASONS IT WILL NOT WORK come flooding in. Yes, I am guilty, I am the source of many of these self imposed smackdowns, but in all fairness, other folks are coming up with what seems to be effortless reasons why things won't work either. The economy is high on the list, as is the usual rule that organizations in trouble do not look outside for guidance or solutions. But, I will keep thinking. I have a new IDEA and am letting it marinate a bit. I'm hopeful that one of these will at least be the beginning, the priming of the pump, the thing that helps me move forward.

For now, hoping for time to slow.

Hoping this unbelievable cold stays outside and out of the pipes.

Hoping that a little epiphany will visit, perhaps not as a Shazam, but a slow unfolding. I sure would welcome either.