lots of frigid temperatures and ice, no snow, though...the residue over this kansas land is a grimy chalky mess - not too pretty or inspiring. we're shivering with our shoulders up to our ears, we're drying out in the forced hot blowing air..we don't wash the streaks of salt off of the car because we know that in this weather and trek from rural landscape to town cleaning it is an exercise in futility - it will not stick. the festivities are a memory, spring is a distant hope, she rides a slow train towards us through fair fields blooming brightly with flowers, with tree buds, with green life...her hands are in her lap and she is dozing, the soft clacking rhythm her lullaby, far far from here. i clean out closets, i take the kids to the library, i throw an extra blanket on everybody at night, i wait for it to be civil outdoors. i finished marcia ford's 'memoir of a misfit' - lovely book, i've already lent it out; and now i'm reading 'walk on - the spiritual journey of u2' by steve stockman, along with the ezzo's 'preteen wise - parenting your child from eight to twelve years' because it's been brought to my attention by this comment and that awareness lately that my oldest son is indeed exiting little kid-dom and what next? here's to a shot at preparedness...

happy january, that no mans land month.