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Same Old Lesson

Once again I learned that same old lesson. The day that looks gloomy from inside can be glorious when you’re out in it.

A couple of weeks ago we had a cold, wet, cloudy Sunday, the sky packed full of clouds. I was not eager to go out again into the dreary weather after my two short dog walks. I had a couple of big computer projects to work on. Well, the first was my MerryThoughts letter, which I almost always write on Sunday morning. Then another bigger task took a few hours. Well, my body was crying out for a walk by the time I was close to finishing. Back, neck, shoulder all so sick and tired of sitting at my desk.

Despite the look of the day, I bundled up, put on my waterproof boots, and went out, with an especially lovely walking meditation to listen to.

So you already know, then, that the walk was absolutely glorious. I went over to a little neighborhood park where a friend has carved a narrow path through the tiny woods. There’s a stream running through, too. Charming. Lovely. Soul satisfying. The wet only accentuated the fall colors against the black bark and branches, just as it does. Remember? Remember? Just as it always does. I did not need sun to jazz up the color or open my eyes wider. It was all there, all the beauty, the glory of nature, just as it always is, at the ready, no matter what the bigger elements decide to do. Always.

The chill on my face was enlivening, as the rest of me was bundled up. My feet were dry. (You know what they say–there’s no bad weather; only bad clothes. Remember?) I had some beautiful words to listen to. I felt refreshed, rejuvenated, reborn, both during and after that absolutely glorious walk. I felt bouncy and boundless, full of life, renewed and wanting to tell everyone this thing that I had (once again) discovered.

And I felt chastened, as well. How many times have I learned that lesson? So many! I once had a card and still have a print that reads, “Be patient. Sometimes you have to learn the same thing over and over again.” Boy oh boy. I will probably learn this again, too, since I am a human being. But as with meditation, I don’t have to learn it. I get to. Yeah, I get to.

“You are the one who declared a gloomy day as gloomy! In fact, there is neither a joyful nor a gloomy day, only a mind that evaluates what that day is!”― Mehmet Murat ildan

“And from the midst of cheerless gloom/I passed to bright unclouded day.” ― Emily Bronte

“When a bad thing happens a pessimist thinks, ‘just my luck’, an optimist thinks, ‘this will pass’, and a teacher thinks, ‘what’s the lesson here?’.” ― Garry Fitchett

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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A Coat With a Hood

For how many years have I been walking in the woods with dogs, all seasons and practically every day? Nearly twelve. Since I’ve had Miles. Those walks were only occasional and mostly in the fall, before I found Miles of the Running Exploring Loving of All People and All Dogs Exuberant Heart. Miles, who stares at me all morning if we do not go on a nice long walk. Miles, who even though he adores the narrow winding paths in the woods and especially the one along the creek, immediately adjusts his expectations (better than I do) when it becomes clear we’re going on a leash walk only.

Anyway, cold, rain, snow, heat, we’ve been out in all of them. And for the most part, I’ve dressed well for it. I want my feet to stay dry, even if the weather’s hot, so I have hiking boots to wear every day. I wear a ball cap in warm weather to keep the sun off my face and horseflies off my head. My son gifted me with a really good raincoat, since I like to be out in the rain. And I have lots of winter things–down jacket, wool gaiter, ear bands, hats, mittens, hand warmers. But I have never had a warm coat with a hood.

The other day, when it was “9 degrees, feels like -2” (Why doesn’t it say “feels bone crushing” or “feels horrifying”?), I finally saw the folly of trying to stay warm in anything other than a coat with a hood. Why has it taken this long? There were two days in a row that pushed the issue. First, I ran into an acquaintance whose pit bull likes to run along carrying the absolute longest branch he can find. This one was probably 8’ long. It stretched the width of the wide trail we were on. We stood laughing and chatting about her dog. But it was her coat that I focused on. A great big coat with a faux fur trimmed hood. It was not fashionable but it looked absolutely decadent. She said it was almost too warm. I asked where she got it. Bass Pro.

The next day I ran into another dog-walking acquaintance who scolded me for not wearing a hat. I had on an admittedly rather thin ear warmer and a wool gaiter. He catalogued for me what he was wearing: a balaclava, a hat, and two jackets, both with hoods, both of the hoods pulled over his already covered head. We walked together a short while and then came upon two others, both wearing hooded jackets, and of course we talked about the brilliance of the hooded jacket.

That day I went out to Bass Pro, a place I never go, a place where all of the (unmasked) employees were very nice and helpful. And I bought, for $33, a big long, to my knees, hooded coat, outer layer of that tough cotton that ranchers wear. Polyester fill. Tan. Tall, stand-up collar. Hood that stays up without being cinched. Zipper and snaps. Big pockets. Nothing fancy. No down. No faux fur trim. No inner cuffs or anything like that. Just what’s needed, though, and with the added bonus that now we can play Ranch. I’ll be Anna Montana, Miles can be Old Thunder and we’ll be out checkin’ the fence line. We’ve both got a hitch in our giddyup these days, so I won’t ride him. Yeehah!! Thirty three dollars! Warm enough, with my layers underneath. And that hood! Nice and cozy and now that I’ve been schooled, I do wear a hat or ear warmer under it.

How does a person live to be 70 before finally getting a proper coat with a hood? You tell me. I’m shaking my head. But at least that head of mine is warm underneath that hood.

“There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.” – Scandinavian wisdom

“Christopher Robin was sitting outside his door, putting on his Big Boots. As soon as he saw the Big Boots, Pooh knew that an Adventure was about to happen, and he brushed the honey off his nose with the back of his paw, and spruced himself up as well as he could, so as to look Ready for Anything.” – A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Uitwaiien!

The sun even looks cold up there.

According to Dictionary.com, “The Dutch compound word uitwaaien means “to jog or walk into the wind, especially in the winter, in order to feel invigorated, relieve stress, and boost one’s health.” It is pronounced out-vahyn. I prefer my incorrect pronunciation, OOT-vahyn, since it’s more fun and sounds more like I imagine Dutch to sound. Naturally, upon learning it, this word immediately appealed to my love of language and newfound sense of adventure when it comes to cold weather. Also, I like saying it and so it has become a new addition to my vocabulary.

At this writing, it is 3 degrees, “feels like -11. The sun even looks cold up there, barely showing through the clouds. Calls for an adventure of some sort, I feel, begs for uitwaiien. I took Miles on a longer than usual neighborhood leash walk, but really? That’s it? Knowing Miles and his preferences and having learned that pajama days are not what they’re cracked up to be, I took care of things at home with a view to going back out for a hike. First, I swept the powdery snow off the front steps, walk, driveway, and car. I filled a dish with warm water and put it on the railing for the birds and squirrels. Yesterday, in anticipation of 2-4′ of snow that did not materialize, I hauled a 40-lb. bag of black oil sunflower seeds home from the hardware store and filled up the birdfeeders.

There’s the sun in this photo, too, barely visible.

I warmed up my boots, gaiter and mittens on the grate, fed Miles and gave him the anti-inflammatory that his older dog body now requires, and got ready to go back out, handwarmer and treats in my pockets. Exciting! Miles was happy and commented that he was surprised I would go back out in the cold. Oh ye of little faith!

We headed across the bridge with a spring in our step, me practically running to keep up, and even though I was game for a nice little uitwaiien, I imagined it to be a short one. Just a quick, invigorating swing around the meadow. But Miles talked me into going onto the ridge perimeter path and then, even, the ridge trail itself.

I don’t suppose you need to know the whole route.

Suffice it to say we had a lovely hike on this very cold day. Of course, very cold is relative. An Iowa friend wrote that it was -15 degrees there, actual temperature! That is a very cold day. I might not feel quite as chipper at -15. I don’t imagine I could live farther north. My eyelashes had little balls of ice on them as it was. But I did not even crack open the handwarmer and Miles, with his curly coat and high degree of energy, was full of all the happy adjectives you could name, and he probably would even be so at -15. He is a great role model for exuberance, in any weather.

The view from the bridge
My friend Julie and I have played singles pickleball this winter in 30 degrees. She carries “little bottles of heat” with her and on New Year’s Eve we had hot chocolate with a little Bailey’s. As she always says, no matter what the weather, “We’re outside and we’re having fun.” The great thing about playing outdoors in winter is that playing hard warms you up, so you can play longer, instead of the other way around. And so, uitwaiien! It’s invigorating and fun! I haven’t gone in for those cold showers or baths that are supposed to be good for your health but I am open to newfangled ideas and I might try it. Why not?

I hope if you are not already a fan of uitwaiien, that you try it out. We have a really cold week coming up that is providing plenty of opportunity, beckoning us, calling each of us by name, “Come, come! Be a polar bear!”

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you like this letter, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”
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The Promise

Sun pours through the window of this pricey hotel

burning frost off the glass, making a cheerful promise

that today will be less brutal than the two before:

artists huddling miserably layered in clothing and

blankets in open tents, hoping someone might brave

the cold to buy something nice for their home knowing

the odds of this happening are very slim indeed.

We dream of bathtubs and beds, waiting, hapless.

 

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Why?

The cold the cold creeping into bones

(no matter the layers of clothing and

subcutaneous fat of which we rant)

as we sit or stand for hours on end

in this one place, a long sunless day

into evening no end in sight wondering

why on earth in God’s name in hell

we ever thought this might be a pleasant

way to earn our keep.  The minutes creep by

along with all thoughts of remuneration

replaced by the simple desires for hot tea,

a warm bed, a scalding tub in which to soak.

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The Wild Lover

Bitter cold today and a
temperature of twelve degrees
(feels like one) sends a thrill
of excitement through me.
So extreme!  So grand!
I live in a place where we must
bend to the many moods of Nature
where wild variance is the norm 
rather like life with a tempestuous 
lover offering up her voluptuous
Self no holds barred no apology 
her whole amazing singularity
expressed without qualm 
nothing hidden no emotion 
repressed tamped down 
no wild truths covered with pat
phrase innuendo or artifice. 
She says simply Here I am.
Love me or not.