Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Baby It's Cold Outside

The forsythia branches are bare of the little birds who inhabit them in winter.  I wonder where they go when it’s too cold even for them?  And why, when they’re wise enough to go to deep cover, I or anyone would do otherwise.

Imagine my fingers, literal and proverbial, being pried from the door jamb by my will, personified as a strong counter-force of some sort, as the one I refuses to go outside – it’s cold out there! – and the other insists, reminding me that but for church, I have been a house potato for a week and that pajama day might turn into pajama lifetime if I’m not mindful.

Will the car start?  I confess I do not know and am filled with mixed hopes – let it . . . don’t let it . . . and I don’t much care who wins . . . cos baby, it is cold outside!

With water lines no longer frozen and heat working, why would I want to go outside?  Life, it seems, demands it.

I’m off.  Wish luck – for me and the birds.

2 comments:

  1. Now is the time to pick some of those forsythia branches, bring them inside and put them in water...instant spring. Well, not instant, but in a couple of days you'll feel like it can't be far away.

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