the view towards our cabin
The quietest new year's eve. Not that my new year's eves were ever so wild. Although I have a few memorable ones tucked in here and there. Like the year that I and A. went to the Young Communist League party...turns out Young Communists are just like everyone else, but with cheaper champagne.
Hedgehog and I rang in 2010 in a hotel room in the Adirondacks--our camp isn't winterized, and it's all snowed in now, so although we drove in and Hedgehog rolled around and made snow angels, I just couldn't face roughing it at night. I really like being warm, and I like hot running water...
Still, the lake looked beautiful in all that intensity of white, with the towering pines against an ominous sky. Very very grand.
And we spent a companionable hour or two next door at my mother's cabin, which, although lacking central heating, is through sheer industry and planning and foresight quite snug for winter. My stepdad is a consummate woodsman, and, along with Sarge, the one I most want on my side in the post-apocalyptic wilderness...Hedgehog warmed up in the armchair by the woodstove, while her red mittens dried cozily on their spokes. Engrossed in the Green Fairy Book, crunching pretzels, she hardly seemed to notice the sudden wind rushing against the side of the cabin.
bare branches against the snow
my mom's lion with a snow crown
the wood that got away
woodpile in use--mom heats with a wood stove
ubiquitous snow-covered pine cone
our Adirondack chairs, scene of many a long hot summer afternoon
I know I'm so very Brooklyn, but part of my soul lives here in the pinetops...