Holidays

A few weeks ago, I was so tired, so homesick, so plain-old-sick, that I bought my plane ticket to California much earlier in my schedule than I should have. I depart in a mere six days, with projects to grade, boxes to pack, pets to arrange for sitting, shows to dismantle... Home is such an alluring concept, as is the romanticized notion of it being a place you can return to, rather than you take with you (whether you like it or not).

Ice has been forming on the windows. It makes straight lines, like the frozen tracks of winter foot-racers. It glistens on the blue mornings, the ones when I love it here. Last weekend, we woke three days in a row to fresh, perfect blankets of clean, white snow, gently covering everything I could see from my hallway window (including the apartment I will soon move into). I could see it from the bed, and before I looked, I knew from the laughter the neighbor's children had already made a snowman in the yard. (Have I found a Norman Rockwell winter?) As quickly as it came, one warm evening and rain storm later, it was gone, the sky was back to gray, the ground muddy and cold.

We have made many fires in the wood stove (while we still can), but moving and leaving for most of the holiday leaves me glum... my favorite thing to do this time of year, whether for only a week or a month, is to open the boxes of Christmas decorations and fling their contents around the house, marvel at the toys for adults, their bright colors and optimistic outlooks, and only put them away when their kitsch has worn thin. I think I will have to have a special equinox festival this coming year, so I will not miss out on my favorite time. Christmas in March it is!

P.S. I finally added more images to Flickr. Enjoy!