The View From Mrs. Sundberg's Window

Extraordinary in itself

March 16, 2009

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. Spent much of the morning outside playing in what's left of the snow with the kids and managed to take a walk in the afternoon with a friend I haven't seen in a while. There was something of a storm early last week and it left a beautiful blanket of white over everything and brought the temperature down to the single digits for a few days. But I'm afraid it may have been the last snow storm of the season.

I'll confess I'm one of those few people who have a bit of a rough time letting go of winter. It's not that I have issues letting go in general. Quite the contrary. I let go of those lovely lawn chairs Mr. Sundberg ordered for me from Seat Yourself. I can let go of my childhood and my frustration with the neighbor boys for throwing our mailbox into the pond. I'm not a grudge-holder and I've pretty much let go of any deluded thinking I might have had that my life is going to be anything but ordinary, which is fine with me because I like ordinary. Ordinary is reliable and real and allows one to use paper napkins with little vines printed on them. Silk stockings and motorcycle licenses are optional. And an ordinary life, if you play your cards right, is extraordinary in itself.

Anyway, I have a bit of trouble about this time each year. I struggle. I want to hold on to winter. I'm simply not a spring person; I'd rather skip it and go straight to summer. I find myself secretly hoping for one more snowstorm, just one, long after warm weather has set in. Perhaps I like the dark of winter. Perhaps I like cozy and where else can you get cozy but winter? Perhaps I like to be reminded of my mortality, I like to know where my edges are, sense where I end and the air begins, feel a fine layer of frost coat my throat and lungs. Perhaps I am a bit crazy. But I was born here, and I will die here, and where ever I go in the mean time, about this time of year I will long for snow, a storm of snow, and the thunder that comes with it. I'll hope for it even as the ice breaks up on the river and the grass grows green and the rabbits come 'round.

So bring on the sunshine, and the rainstorms and the leaves. Send in the tulips, and the jellybeans. Rev up the rototiller. You'll find me repairing the hammock, where, on a windy afternoon later in March, you'll find me dozing away, dreaming of winter, which, when you think about it, is not long off.

Creamy Lime Pie
If you're looking for something light and sweet for St. Patrick's Day, this pie will do the trick. It's also green, and takes only ten minutes or so to make.

1 graham cracker crust

Mix 1 envelope (.13 oz) unsweetened lime drink

1 can (14 oz) sweetened condensed milk

Fold in 8 oz Cool whip, thawed

Pour into crust. Refrigerate. Enjoy!

Previous article: « They Were Only Having Fun

Next Article: And then the phone rang once more »