Mother and son are gamely trying to solve last week’s crossword puzzle (with intermittent help from the Internet’s Crossword Solver). The girlfriend has been quietly trying her second Sudoku puzzle.
Such mental energy!
Me, I’m looking outside at a very snowy vista: an ever-growing thickness of fluffy white snow being blown about, almost obliterating the boot steps of Jonah and Charleen who arrived from the guesthouse a couple of hours earlier.
My work for the time being is done at the sink washing dishes. Music from James Taylor’s latest album Before this World (“I make a new album every ten years or so”) is providing pleasant background music.
I had passed some time earlier attempting to make some headway through two books, The Jane Austen Book Club, by Karen Joy Fowler and Richard Ford’s 2014 novel, Let Me Be Frank With You. “Perfect weather for reading,” Naomi had said when she heard I was back in bed. Outside the snow was swirling menacingly.
But now, as I looked outside, I thought “I really should be outside shoveling” but couldn’t quite get myself into the idea.
Yesterday, we had gone to the gym, so working my muscles more wasn’t quite what I was relishing doing. It doesn’t take long when you shovel to feel the effect on lungs along with arm and shoulder muscles.
That’s why we bought a snow blower this year, to help me when things got too, err, heavy.
To help me decide, I helped myself to generous helpings of leftover chicken and stuffing, a half-sour pickle and the last of Naomi’s baklava. Didn’t work. I still looked outside with a sense of guilt that I should be doing something outside.
It was still snowing, neither heavily or lightly, but relentlessly nonetheless. The wind was still blowing it hither and thither.
What to do?
Write about it!