The sweet smell of shoveling


Yesterday it was 22 degrees F when I stood in the sunshine and you would have thought it was summer the way I was smiling and all my muscles relaxed. I was finally able to shovel the rest of the driveway. It snowed on Saturday and then the wind just wouldn’t stop. Blowing the snow right back to where you’d gotten it from, plus a little extra for good measure. The wind chills have been in the -20s and -30s and that’s when we all just freeze up and run to wherever we’re going, which is only from the house to the car and back again. Tuesday it was 12 degrees with no wind when I walked to the post office. It was so lovely that I shoveled for an hour and a half when I got home. Still I was only able to dig out halfway. The winds are back today but the windchill is only 4 degrees so I feel slightly like a wimp for postponing my trip to the post office. I live in something of an igloo, though fortunately I shoveled off the roofs before it snowed again and the sun left us for near to a week. So all of my pictures are still from the inside, though they have the frosty hue of icy mid-winter.


It’s frigid but it seems like everyone is thinking about weddings. This week I dropped off soaps (the ones in the top picture) and these postcards to the Takk House for their Knotted Wedding Event in March. If you’re from the area and you’re getting married (or just want to pretend that you are), and the regular hullabaloo of weddings makes you feel icky, you should definitely check this out. There will be craft beer tastings, thoughtful indie designers, and people who pay attention to the quirky details instead of tan lines and waist lines (is that really real? I don’t know. Eric and I eloped and I am still grateful for that. And also simultaneously happy that there are so many people out there creating an alternative to the wedding-industrial complex. Including, apparently, myself).

I also just teamed up with Elise Events, providing sample favors for FRESHbash, an event similar to Knotted happening next week on the West Coast.

And this weekend our drummer is getting married. We’ll be playing at his reception in three iterations of musical conglomerations. That’s a lot of songs and a lot of love. The wedding is outside so I’ve packed all of my long johns and all of my sweaters. There is a rumor that it might snow 5-8 inches the day after the wedding. I’m not sure whether that makes me excited or terrified, though I am leaning toward terrified. I hate driving in the snow. So there’s that.


And just so I don’t leave you with the impression that the soundtrack to my life is purely gray and white, there’s this. The only experience I’d ever had with freesia prior to receiving these beauties for Valentine’s day was as a young teenager in that lotion store. You know the one. I am happy to say freesia really does smell like that, minus the plastic.

Eric went into the local flower shop, and while the other men were fighting over the red roses, he bee-lined it to the freesia. The florist gleamed. She couldn’t help but order them, though she wasn’t sure anyone would buy them. Then she proceeded to ask him if he was the guy who lived in the house at the corner, just before the hill. If he were the one who always shoveled the driveway with his wife. Eric said, yes, that was indeed him, and these freesia were indeed for his snow-shoveling wife. She went on to say how much she enjoyed watching us shovel the driveway together and on days when it snowed she always tried to come down the hill early enough so she could catch us shoveling. She said it seemed like we were bonding over the snow and the act of shoveling, and she could tell how much we loved one another by our shoveling body language.

I don’t know which was a better Valentine’s gift -the flowers or when Eric relayed her comments.
But I think the freesia smelled even sweeter because of it.

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