November 17, 2011 at 9:15 AMThe wind picked up yesterday evening. It blew and blew, like it was trying to get all us candles out for good. All that whining and howling that shook the doors and blasted the windows with powder was just a little spooky at first, but when the gusts became accompanied by the crackling sound of falling trees, I was downright frightened. Our motion lights flashed on and off outside the door to add to the spook-house effect. And then, at 3 am and twelve degrees, the 40+ mile-an-hour winds finally cut our power. At 7:30 in the morning, cold and strained from dozens of howling nightmares, I awoke to the flickering sound of my microwave's beep, pricked by a futile power surge. Luckily, the coffee shop in town had a warm fire and hot beverages waiting for me. So, by headlamp, I found the motivation to leave my heavy covers and warm up the car for a trip into town. The house grew colder in my absence. As I waited for the power to return, I noted that I was fortunate enough not to have to worry about my frozen goods thawing: Alaska is my freezer--I have all the freezer space I want. Refrigerator getting too warm? Crawl inside! Even luckier still, our power came back half an hour before my first lesson of the day.
Isn't it amazing how thankful you can be when you suddenly realise all the things you take for granted?
I'm thankful for my down-filled, fur-rimmed, Woolrich parka, given to me by Uncle Bob in Pennsylvania.
I'm thankful for the people who cleared the tree out of the road so I could get to the coffee shop.
I'm thankful for Jonathan's sense of humor, who let me throw my Microcosms at him and have him read it forward, backward, upside-down, up a half step, down a whole step, just to show him how good he was, and how nice I was to keep him on more musical activities.
I'm thankful for Haley's rubbing detache discovery, and I hope she gets addicted to it.
I'm thankful that if the power goes out tonight and I get cold, I can run into town to the local fire station and join the 5000 other people without power, under provisional lights and warm shelter. Thank you, local response teams!
Lastly, I'm thankful for Jaycie, who requested to be able to play Silent Night for the holidays. Thanks to her, I spent the rest of the evening composing my own arrangement of an age old song, in first position, with friendly fingerings and bowings and a simple, yet touching piano accompaniment. Because of her, I was able to create my own silent night, shutting out the howl and the threatening cold with the idea of something more serene, hopeful, and tranquil. This one's for you, Jaycie...
The snow here is too dry to pack. I still love it when it snows, but it doesn't even occur to me to make a snow man. Ben and I go snowshoeing or skiing sometimes, but not when it's windy.
Maybe it's time we some snowflakes and hang them in the windows!
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