Cratchititis

I work at a ski resort. In accounting. It is minus 20 degrees with the wind chill. This morning my office has no freaking heat. I am Bob Cratchit. I sit here in my coat and scarf with a fleece vest over my legs. I need fingerless gloves - seriously. I get a discount on gear, but I really think if they want me to count the bleedin' beans today they should give me fingerless gloves.

Three Hours later.....

The boiler still isn't fixed. I have decided to get in touch with my inner Eastern European ancestry and have wrapped my woolen scarf around my head and neck. I look like a Babushka. People laugh at me when they pass. Tried plugging in the space heater, but it blew the fuse to the office and made it dark as well as cold. My boss told me that I can leave if I can't stand it any longer. She lent me her gloves ( cause she apparently doesn't have the circulation of a corpse like I do ), hard to type with full gloves. I hope the goddamn pipes freeze and they have to shut our building down.

If she asked me for advice....

I would tell her to buy a place in her home state - (is it Louisiana?).Try like Hell to stay away from everyone who is a terrible influence ~ and I think that is most of her family as well~ and simply attempt to raise her boys. Why do I even bother reading about it? Because on a mom level, I too would resist giving up my child(ren) when I wanted more time with them? Assuming that was the reason for this latest debacle. Perhaps Ms. B. might do well to see the tragic pictures of babies and children stacked like cordwood in a morgue in Kenya. It might help her put it all into perspective in order for her to get it together so she can hug her babies anytime she wants. As the old saying goes, she made her bed, now she has to lay in it.

Bet nobody else got one of these!

My brother lives half the year in Antarctica and the other half in Alaska. I bet the flight from Toolik to VT was interesting with this going through the baggage check! Yes, it is a 3 foot long 2 foot high caribou antler! And no, I have no idea where we will put it in his room....suggestions?

Blizzard Turkeys

The three of them finally moved off toward the woods. And here I was hoping for an easy dinner. It may not look like precipitation in the picture, but what you don't see is sleet and unbelievable wind...which brought down a large branch from a pine tree. It barely missed the house...i mean like by an inch...but it took out my clothesline. Obviously I bagged work today cause 20 miles up two mountains just ain't worth it. Plus my boss said she didn't want me out in this crap. I hate winter.

Adding this: one of our energy saving light bulbs blew this afternoon and created a terrible smell ~ of course I thought the house was going to burn down. So I looked it up and apparently this is normal burn-out behavior for these bulbs...you can find the info here. Just in case it happens to you.

Ah...festivey goodness

The fabulous tree! Doesn't look fake does it? I assure you I dragged the bodybag out of the basement and lovingly fluffed each branch before sliding them into their assigned slots. No picking pine needles out of our socks till June for us!

The 'Never' Of Places

My friend Nick is dead. There I said it. I haven't been able to verbalize it in the last few days. I feel like a bit of light has been sucked out of my soul. What did he give me, besides watercolors and pumpkins for the Minion over the years? He gave me laughter and happiness. Joy. It was with him that I first heard Sarah McLachlin, Loreena McKinnett, Bocephus King. We would have cocktails and spin one another around his beautiful home to 'Come On, Eileen'; giggling at the sheer silliness of us. He called me up in the winter of 2003 /2004 and said there was going to be a lunar eclipse; he had red wine, the lawn chairs in the driveway and blankets - come watch the penumbra with him. Aside from the obvious things like not ever hearing his voice or seeing his face again, the saddest part of me knows I will never experience the pure freedom I felt in his home. Because it was him that made it the fabulous place it was for me. The S.O never met Nick, though Nick did a watercolor at my request as an anniversary gift. The S.O knows I'm sad, but I can never explain to him how much this man meant to me. A great bear of a man who would cut flowers for his dining room table. I spoke with his ex-wife the other day ~ they got on better as unmarried neighbors, lol ~ and she said it perfectly: We all got robbed.

NICHOLAS CHEW BENNETT
June 15th, 1953 - November 27th, 2007


Nicholas Chew Bennett of Rawsonville, Vermont died on November 27th, 2007. Nick was born on June 15th, 1953, was raised in Radnor Pennsylvania, attended Episcopal Academy, Westminster School and graduated from the University of Vermont in 1975. He is predeceased by his mother Elizabeth Chew Bennett of Radnor, PA and his father Edwin Eversley Bennett of Manchester Vermont.
Nick was a man of many talents. He was an artist and a builder, a lover of animals and nature. He was blessed with a curious intellect, agile mind, and shall be remembered for his quick wit and wonderful sense of humor.
Nick is survived by his sister Lisa Bennett Stokes of Radnor, PA, nephews Ben and Will and niece Liza Stokes, as well as two half sisters Wendy Bennett Osborne and Betsey Bennett Bischoff. He is also survived by many cousins and his good friend and caring neighbor Carol Cantwell.

Busy Busy

It's been a hectic couple of weeks. Work really gets in the way of life. But one can't live on the dole forever. I am very lucky to get summers off - which makes up for the fact that I have to drive up two mountains in order to get a paycheck 7 months out of the year. Last Tuesday we had sleet and freezing rain. My first interesting commute of the season. But I am a turtle. Slow and steady. Tap the brakes. Psalm 91, Lord. And for God's sake, you in front of me fish-tailing, don't stop in the middle of the lane.

Thanksgiving was fine. I worked and the S.O cooked. And today we cook a chicken and head to my mother's for the 2nd installment as well as my birthday cake. I turn 39 tomorrow. I'm not sure how that happened. I feel I should be a little more together by this point in my life. Maybe I am and I just don't realize it.

The Minion wants to put up the Christmas Tree. I have compromised and told him he can make his yearly Winter Wonderland-scape in one of the windowseats. That will keep him occupied tomorrow as he pairs Styrofoam snowmen with chipped nativity scene figurines, strands of Mardi Gras beads and Legos. It's always a visual feast.