Yucca on a Frosty Morn

A winking sparkle drew me to the window. There was a glistening in the flower bed. I crunched across the frosted grass as the pale morning sun reflected off the ice shards on the yuccas. The patterns are fragile, fleeting and beautiful.

There but for the grace of God

I got an email from my friend Howard yesterday. He had fallen on some black ice while clearing off his Jeep. It was a crappy morning and he did not want to take out the good car that was parked nice and dry in the garage. He cleaned off the snow and ice from the front of the vehicle then walked around the side to do the back. On the way, he slipped and his feet flew out from under him. He fell flat on his back on the blacktopped driveway. He hit his elbow, hip and smacked his head. He immediately drove himself to the Emergency Room in Morristown where they stitched up his elbow, X-rayed the rest and sent him home.

Two weeks later, he started to lose his words and his right foot was dragging. He called his doctor, went back to the hospital and had brain surgery the next day. Brain surgery- the scariest of surgeries. He had a Subdural Hematoma. He said he had no headache. No symptoms. After the surgery the bleeding did not stop, so they had to go back in again to find the cause. It could have been much, much worse.

After 2 surgeries and a stay at a Rehab center, he is now home. I spoke to him today and he sounds normal. His voice is strong. He is tired, but on the mend.

He told me of the misery of those in the hospital and in rehab--the pain and suffering that happens around us that we do not know. While in the hospital he prayed for all those suffering in the world. He said it was a wake-up call. "Your life can change in an instant. We should all be thankful for what we have."

In this Easter season let us hold up to the light all who suffer. As I sit down with my guests for Easter dinner, I will pray for Howard who may be having Easter lunch at a diner, but is alive and well enough to go out-even for a short distance. God Bless.

I'm Gonna Go Where it's Warm

I slid down the mountain this morning, riding the brake the whole way. The ABS shuddered more than once when I hit a patch of ice, black and scary. I clutched the wheel and grimly steered through the skid.

I am so over this winter thing now. I have been a snow-weenie and proud for years. Last May I went to Alaska and vowed to embrace the cold, the snow, the dreaded wintry mix. In Anchorage I bought some extremely cool gloves and hats and some leopard print silk long johns; ready to be stylin’ this year. I even bought a thick luxurious coat in Chicago in early December. All, to no avail. It didn’t happen. I am well turned out, but still hate winter.

And February is always the worst for me. Hints of spring are everywhere. The birds are surprised to hear a tentative spring song come out of their throats. The air occasionally has a hint of warmth to it. The weak sun melts the last of the mounds of snow. But it is all a tease--a joke from old man winter and the groundhog.

Well, I’ve had enough! I am going where it’s warm. I leave next week for South America. Where, may I add, it is summer. I’ll be in Argentina, Uruguay and Brazil. My arrangements are made. My bag is half packed. I have my visa.

Now, if only the snow would only hold off until I fly….