Until a couple of days ago, I had never seen branches and berries encased in ice ... not that I can remember. I recall icicles from when I was a child, but I don't ever remember seeing the magical somewhat lonely looking encasement of nature the way I did a couple of days ago.
That day, we had freezing rain and ice off and on all day long; the ice formed over snow where it could. But it froze all of the little branches and berries and what few leaves remained on a tree or shrub here or there. Every little bit and piece of nature that couldn't move on its own was frozen and isolated, looking so lonely and cold. Beautiful, but quite lonesome looking.
Perhaps the quiet of winter added to that idea of loneliness.
For me it was a wondrous opportunity to photograph anything I could lay my eyes on. I could not keep myself indoors because of the wonder of it all. Although, I do have to admit I waited until my husband came home from work mid-afternoon and I was sure to take my cell phone with me. We have trees everywhere, and some branches had come down earlier in the day. One evergreen tree tipped over completely. I didn't want to be out there and run into trouble with no one to notice or help me if needed. When I did go out, I worked on staying aware of where I was putting myself, and did not position myself under large branches.
Icicles about twelve inches long hung from the roof on the east side of our barn ... they would have made a perfect Christmas decoration. The barn stood there stoically, no complaints whatsoever about the ice or the cold. I admire his attitude. The truth is, I'm sure he has seen worse than this.
The day after the ice, we had more snow. It certainly is a pretty world out there and I am blessed to have this opportunity to observe and participate in it. The participation is the best part: getting myself out there amid and amongst nature and the environment. I may have overdone it a bit, because my sinuses are hurting. So, I'm taking it a bit easier for a few days ... or so I think. I have to admit, just a few minutes ago I went downstairs to bump the thermostat up a couple of degrees and noticed the awakening of the corn and the river and snow in the first moments of morning's golden light.
And though I had determined not to go outside this morning, I couldn't resist and found myself bundling up quickly and heading out to snap a few more shots. My sinuses are smarting again, but at least I siezed the day and the moment. What's a little pain here and there, afterall. Sieze the day.
I suppose that is something like what my husband and I did in becoming a couple so quickly last year. Last year. It sounds so long ago now, long ago compared to when it was "just a few months ago". It certainly has been a wild year.
In Monday's entry I told about a particular day last year, about three weeks into our online and telephone time of getting to know each other that we became a couple in my mind by facing a challenging subject and working it out together.
About three days later, he had a similar realization and that was when he started phoning me every single evening and we would speak for four or five hours. We never ran out of things to say to one another; there was never even one awkward moment of silence. There was nothing awkward at all in fact, about any of it.
We could tell each other anything, and felt drawn to do so. An amazing journey was afoot, so stunning a journey that often all we could say about it was a lame, "Wow, this is mind boggling." There just wasn't enough time to process what was occuring, so that was all our dizzy minds could come up with to say about it.
We decided, naturally, it was time to meet face-to-face. His idea was that I should come to New York to meet him, the farm, the environment, all of it. And, before we knew it a date was set and tickets were purchased and there was pretty much no turning back ... but then, neither of us wanted to turn back.
In fact, we already acknolwedged before he bought those airline tickets that we were going to get married. We knew it for certain, and so of course we needed to meet one another. It was wild but concrete, both at the same time. Sometimes you just know something absolutely and certainly and there isn't any shadow of a doubt. And for me, that time had come. And I could tell it was completely different than anything else I had ever experienced before.
We both felt what we were experiencing was beyond ourselves, we could both feel the touch of God in our lives and in our meeting. It would have been futile to resist, and neither of us could have even if we tried.
There was one tiny little problem, however. I have a very close relationship with both of my children, very close. And my son was still living in Los Angeles, as was I. Though my daughter knew what was going on with me, I had not told my son anything yet about this man in New York I had been talking to ... he didn't even know I was "online dating" because I was certain he would think I was off my rocker if he knew about that, it was so uncharacteristic of me. And there I was knowing for certain I was going to marry this man I had not met, and that it was going to happen pretty quickly and I would be moving to New York ... of all places.
When I did tell my son, the cool thing is that he didn't give me a hard time about it at all. He must have sensed my confidence and certainty ... or sensed something all his own. That was very cool.
So, two months after that first email contact between us, at the end of March my future husband and I were to meet face to face in New York. After he bought the tickets for me, I had about three weeks to get ready. Those weeks flew by. The few friends and family I told about my big adventure were very supportive. Amazed, but supportive nonetheless. The whirlwind of it all was extremely fun and I enjoyed sharing my plans with a few trusted people.
One day however, I went off on a couple of errands and when I came back to the place where I was renting a room, there was a table of ladies gathered in the dinning room visiting with the lady who owned the place. While I was out, the subject of me and what I was doing obviously had come up, because I was greeted by three strangers asking me a barage of questions about the man I met online and was going to fly out to meet. I corrected them that I was going to marry him, and yes I would be meeting him first.
One woman in the group laid into me like you wouldn't believe. I had never seen her before in my life, but she told me I was crazy and that it would not work out, could not work out, and that by the end of May she was certain I would be phoning home to be rescued. She said she would personally resuce me, even though we didn't know each other. She was down right adamant. Very negative. Actually, she was pretty nasty about it. She said terrible things about him and what a dog he would turn out to be, without knowing him at all. He was to be a dog simply because he was a man and all men stink.
The cool thing was that it didn't even bother or phase me. I was sad for her in a way, because I knew she had to be very unhappy to have such strong opinions of two people who she didn't even know at all. For her, there could be no magic and no happiness ... that's sad, sad indeed. So, please don't think ill of her. She is an unhappy soul who was crying out about her own unhappiness and wasn't really talking about me or my husband-to-be at all, inspite of her words.
For me, there was him and I was ready to run as fast as I could in his direction and never look back.
Getting ready to meet him was a great bit of fun all in itself. Planning my outfits ... I would be there for five days and the weather would be quite cold compared to LA. Oh what fun it was to plan the cutest clothes I could that would also keep me warm.
The day before my flight I treated myself to a "spa" day with a deluxe manicure and pedicure and other treats. I was floating around on clouds of dreams and excitement ... it is absolute pleasure to recall it all right now as I look outside my window at the snow and the beauty of it all.
Here I am, and it worked out. He is even better than I thought he was going to be, this place and this life is even more than I dreamed of.
And look ... you're here too reading my blog and enjoying my story. And we have coffee and tea together and knit and share joys and woes and we have become good friends even though we have never met.
How good can it get? I suppose it can get about this good and then some. I'm ready. I'll take it. I'll share it too.
And, I am knitting by the way. My son's scarf grows longer by the day. I'll finish it within a few days, and then I intend to block it--I rarely, if ever, block my knitting. It's a personal thing. This scarf needs a bit of blocking though so the ribbing will match the look of the ribbing on the hat when the hat is being worn.
The dark ginger colored yarn is for my next project: a hat for my daughter. I saw that yarn in one of the two local yarn shops and loved the color for her, so I bought it.
The teddy bear in this shot is one I bought for myself at StarBucks in LA, the day in fact when I was accosted by the unhappy woman I described above. One of the errands I was out on was to grab a cafe latte at Starbucks. I saw the teddy bear and he looked so sweet, I bought him for myself to remind me the dear man I was about to spend the rest of my life with.
This morning as I typed my blog, a song played from Carly Simon's "Moonlight Serenade" CD (which he gave me for Christmas). The words:
"Can you imagine how much I love you
the more I see you as years go by
I know the only one for me
can only be you
my arms won't free you
and my heart won't try
each time I look at you its like the first time
each time you're near me the thrill is new
That's just the way it is"