We’re snowed in, we lucky ones. The unlucky ones are out bravely slogging their way through it to get to someplace they need to be. The mail delivery got here, though it made me feel guilty–he trudged here just to bring a couple of catalogs and a magazine I don’t care about.
On Facebook it looks as if people are home everywhere–everybody changing their profile photos, adding 8, 10, 26 new friends. A sure sign everyone’s snowed in. Also, a sign that our concept of “friend” has been co-opted, but that’s another story or at least another blog post. I was recently at a party where one of my favorite people–yes, a friend!–noted that he had more friends in the room than he had on Facebook.
The snow is piling up outside and I’m reading and writing and making two kinds of soup, though I have doubts about one of them. We’ll see. Another friend sent me his annual list of the books he read this past year. I am awed. Haven’t even finished reading the list yet.
Last night I finished Pat Barker’s “Ghost Road,” the final book in her trilogy about World War I. Beautifully written and fascinating, just as many of you said. I continue to read “The Known World” by Edward P Jones, but find I need to take it in just a little at a time–it’s harsh.
Meanwhile, time to poke a little at the fire and feel grateful for warmth and firewood and for many other things, including friends on the phone and online.