Thursday, December 20, 2007

happy holidays from idaho

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

snowplows and the jones street boys

After a long day in the office (Christmas in retail advertising is horrible) I headed for the parking lot, which was covered in ice slush. I grumbled to the car, knowing soon as I got into the driveway I would have to start shoveling. Slush traps cars in ways ice, snow and powder never could dream too. Tired and cranky, and wanting to be in the company of paws and feathers and not in the rain, I pulled off 95 and to my surprise the entire drive was plowed! Ron to the rescue! My neighbor had kindly plowed me out while I was at work. I called them right away to say thanks and not only did they say it was no sweat, Mrs. Crawford had a jar of huckleberry jalapeño jam for me to take home to PA! I love country people so much.

After the usual feeding and dog meals were dished out I was reading on the couch when the phone started ringing. I always get nervous when the phone rings after midnight EST. But it was Taylor in Nashville. She was hanging out at a friends house with the bluegrass band the “Jones Street Boys. I’m not exactly sure how she managed to hang out casually with a band on a Tuesday night but she let me request a song and played it live for me across the country. The Jones Street Boys sounded amazing. Top Shelf all the way. I picked up Annie’s front paws and we danced around the kitchen. Jazz came over to see what the fuss was about and I scooped him up too. I thanked her a hundred times, thanked a lad named Jonny, and said goodnight. It feels damn special to get a call like that out of the blue. Thanks darling!

the jones street boys website (they are lookers)

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Thomas Kinkade would've thrown up

Last night around 9 PM I went outside to close up the chicken pen like I do every night, but soon as I walked out into the moonlight, I noticed a completely different visual. The circular lights of a snowplow flickered off the barn. There was one beeping and backing up just past the farm on the highway, and it’s flashing was almost police car like. Except it didn’t’ give you that feeling of anxiety the blue and red lights do. Nah, it was more like Christmas lights actually.

Instead of walking behind the house on the well worn path to the coops, I waded in the opposite direction through the snow till I was about 100 feet away from the front door. The sky broke open from the past 3 nights and there were stars coming through the clouds behind the house's steep gable. The big dipper soared up into the heavens pointing forever north. The porch light and the civil plow’s flashes were the only other sources of light besides those stars. In the dark the farmhouse glowed like a storybook cottage, perfect and warm and tucked away from the whole world. Inside I knew there was warm food and snuggling dogs and I had a cup of hot mint tea and a documentary on Thomas Jefferson to get back too under the wool blanets on the couch. But I think I stood there in the cold watching the house for at least five minutes in the stillness. I was waiting for it to get picked up and shook like a snow globe. I waited but it never did. I fed the birds some leftover cherry pie and went back inside.