In search of story

February 12.21: Coping



makes winter sweet

if you like clompy boots

on both your feet,

if you like glassy streets

to slip and slide

while white-knuckled driving


if you like your toes

and fingers too

stinging and reddened

to shades of blue,

if you like clothes like blubber

on arctic whale

just to go out

to get the mail,

if you like north winds,

those icy bullies,

roaring through layers

of itchy woollies,

if you like shovel kink

in your lower back

and a quiver in


but if you like a big sniff

of cookies oven-hot,

the company of stew

bubbling in a pot,

the softness of thick flannel,

most comfy of old friends,

the search for words and meanings

that never ever ends,

the pencil, pen, and mug

Β to draw and write and sip,

your sugar snow, like mine,

is introvert’s catnip.



9 thoughts on “February 12.21: Coping

  1. Perfect! I shoveled one morning this week, and when I came in my fingers hurt so bad I thought maybe I really had frostbite even though I’d had on three layers. It’s been wicked cold here. It’s a whopping 6 degrees right now with the sun shining. When you said ‘sugar snow,’ I sure did smile though. Have you ever had boiled maple syrup on snow? Oh my goodness, was that a treat when I was a child. These days it would send me to the dentist for emergency assistance probably, but the memories are still sweet. πŸ™‚

    • I am certainly sorry to say that I’ve never had maple syrup on snow, but I’ve read about it wistfully. It does sound like the kind of health food we love. However, I know all too well about emergency trips to the dentist so perhaps it’s just as well I haven’t tried the syrup on snow. Our windchill has been in the single digits and we’re headed to sub-zero temps in the next couple days, and the other day my fingers also got painfully cold gripping the shovel. This week’s snow has been light and easy to shovel, though, so fortunately I don’t have to be out long. I suspect it’s a thousand times worse for you. Very important to keep our ovens baking!

  2. That odd sound you might have just heard in NH was me guffawing.

  3. I love your frolicking rhyme that warms my heart and sense of humor. I’m making soup today!

  4. Yes, please, to the stew, cookies, flannel and can I please have a hot water bottle, or as we call them in our family, a hoccabo?

    • p.s. When I googled hoccabo to see what language it might be, naturally your post from 2015 popped up. Of course, it’s Rushton-ese! I think the story is hilarious, and the whole matter of family words is too. I don’t think the family I grew up with had any of its own words, but very few understood us anyway!

  5. Hoccabo? Once again you extend my vocabulary. In any language, a hot water bottle is definitely the accessory of the day.

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