The Furious Spinner

Rain, sleet, snow, slush, floods. We got 'em. Fortunately our electricity has stayed on, knock wood. Joanna's has gone out a couple of times up on the island. I don't like when the electricity goes out. Not in the winter. It ain't fun. Especially if you have electric heat. It's just stressful.



Mario and I started out for Portland this morning, but we turned around when we heard on the radio that we were supposed to get several inches of snow. We stopped at Eagle Creek to see if any salmon were left in the creek. There weren't. We walked on the trail for a bit, but a huge landslide blocked our way. So we turned around and went back to the car. We headed for the Giff. Snow, snow, snow. I kept thinking about Linda and how much she loved the first snow. I wanted to call her and talk about it all. I could hear her saying, "Oh, Kim, it's so beautiful out here. I wish you could see it."



So we drove to Linda's house. I hadn't been there in a month or more. Several inches of snow covered everything. We parked the car at the top of her driveway and walked down.



Jimmy and Maggie were very glad to see us. They both wanted to jump on us, but I kept them down with big hugs. I looked around at the farm and wondered if this would be the last time I saw it. Every corner of it reminds me of Linda. Everything hurt while I was there. Didn't want to feel as sad as my body was aching.




I can't remember if I mentioned that Serena is leaving the farm. We hadn't seen her in weeks until she came over last week. We sat at the kitchen table talking. We were both very sad, both missing her momma a lot, both of us missing the life that we had had—at least the good-parts version of the life we had when Linda was alive. Keeping up that farm and being alone and being nineteen and being in school and not having an income just wasn't working for her, so she was going to have to leave.





Mario and I are now watching An Inconvenient Truth. It starts with a visual of a stream and trees, and Al Gore is talking about the air and the river and the trees. And I started crying. I have loved what I have loved since I came into this world. I was a child of the forests, the marshes, the blue sky, the rivers, and ponds. I was sister to the trees and the birds and the bees and the deer and the opossums and so much more. I loved, loved, loved it all. I have watched since I was small as it changed, as our world was trashed. I saw it all and didn't understand why everyone didn't notice what was happening. I still don't understand it. Are we so disconnected from ourselves and our world that we don't notice what is happening? I remember going to a peace and justice meeting a few years ago in this area. A medical doctor was the facilitator. I mentioned the air pollution in our area. She said, "Really? I hadn't noticed." I was astonished. How could she not notice that what she was breathing was dirty? And she was a doctor!

When Al Gore lost the election, I said to Mario, "Maybe Al Gore will go and do something more important than being president. Maybe he will save the world by making people understand what global warming is doing to our planet."

I hope the Dems will do something about global warming. Most of us need to change our lives to alleviate global warming, but last I heard, businesses are the worst perpetrators. I hope Gore talks about what we can do help.

I made Mario dinner and dessert. Now it's time to clean up.

Maybe all over the world it's time to clean up.



I miss my friend tonight. I miss my friend every night. I am fortunate enough to be sitting next to my sweetheart, and I am grateful for that and so much more.

May You Become Carbon Neutral in Beauty!

(Half the photos are by Mario Milosevic, b-day boy!) 4 comments

4 Comments:

Beautiful, beautiful photos, K & M. Sending empathy for Linda's absence - first snows are a mixed bag of beginnings and endings, aren't they?

Here in Massachusetts, we ought to be pretty well buried - or at least buried, thawed, and buried again - but not a single snow yet. Southern Vermont's had one snow that didn't stick. Only one hard freeze. Warm. It's very strange.

Can't be a New Englander and not have some gratitude for a few weeks less of bone-chilling-ice, but this ain't normal, and has its own bone-chilling aspects.

I wish I could hug Al Gore.

Thanks for the walk at Linda's.

By Anonymous, at 7:22 AM  

Such lovely photos. Thanks you two for letting us see what it's like down there. I was also missing sharing the First Snow with my dad . . . he would have loved it.

I too have been wondering how much this odd, odd weather is related to global warming . . .

When I saw An Inconvenient Truth, I cried through the end, with all the suggestions of things we can do to make a change . . . then I visited the site (can't look it up now on this slow dialup) linked to the film, that helps you figure out how much you are personally contributing to global warming and how to make changes. I was relieved to discover that we are doing pretty well. Working from home has its pluses, less commuting and cars on the road, for one thing. But there is, of course, always room to improve.

Stay safe and warm!

By Joanna, at 8:45 AM  

Your photographs are absolutely beautiful! Snow already. It seems so early. We here in Detroit are having unseasonably warm temps (in the 60s) that are supposed to hold under Friday night.

Yes, I'm sure you miss Linda. You were/are soul sisters in the truest sense of the word. May you always feel her close to you.

By Patricia, at 6:47 PM  

Thank you all, my dear friends! And thanks, Joanna, for telling me about the link. I put in the link here and above in the post in "what we can do to help." Great information.

By Kim Antieau, at 10:18 AM  

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