FFF #4 Ice Storm
the day was hot, but there was ice falling from the sky.
nothing unusual for kansas, really.
i sit in my pyjamas and watch nature confuse itself outside, petting the cat with one hand, the other wrapped tightly around my coffee. i recall an ice storm in june of 1993, that left drifts as deep as three feet, to produce an effect like snow piled high in summer. i was 16.
a storm in december of 1998, when i decided i was smarter than the other motorists, and opted to go for a slow ride around town, to look at the wreckage, but also to see the way that the full moon caused the ground everywhere to glitter and gleam like so much stage dressing. i was 22.
an ice storm in 2000, that actually shut lawrence down for a few days. staying in all day, drinking toddies and watching the longest movies we had on hand. i was 24.
counting today, that's 4 in the course of 28 years, or one every seven. if i live to be the projected 76 years that statisticians say i have (fools don't know that i still smoke, obviously), i'll get a total of 10. and i've seen four. i have six left.
there are a myriad of ways to count your years, from milestones to the change in your auto insurance rates. i choose ice storms. i don't know why, perhaps because it's not up to me when they come, only that occasionally they can and do make an appearance, and i can make one more psychic hash mark counting down the rest of my time within this mortal coil. i suppose it only seems fitting that since precisely no control over the length of time i have is in my hands that i choose a timepiece that has a similar disdain for my wishes and wants.
faraday grumbles in her cat-like way when i get up for another cup of coffee. contemplating my own mortality is thirsty work. i give her one more reassuring scratch between her ears as i wander in stocking feet, back to the kitchen.
nothing unusual for kansas, really.
i sit in my pyjamas and watch nature confuse itself outside, petting the cat with one hand, the other wrapped tightly around my coffee. i recall an ice storm in june of 1993, that left drifts as deep as three feet, to produce an effect like snow piled high in summer. i was 16.
a storm in december of 1998, when i decided i was smarter than the other motorists, and opted to go for a slow ride around town, to look at the wreckage, but also to see the way that the full moon caused the ground everywhere to glitter and gleam like so much stage dressing. i was 22.
an ice storm in 2000, that actually shut lawrence down for a few days. staying in all day, drinking toddies and watching the longest movies we had on hand. i was 24.
counting today, that's 4 in the course of 28 years, or one every seven. if i live to be the projected 76 years that statisticians say i have (fools don't know that i still smoke, obviously), i'll get a total of 10. and i've seen four. i have six left.
there are a myriad of ways to count your years, from milestones to the change in your auto insurance rates. i choose ice storms. i don't know why, perhaps because it's not up to me when they come, only that occasionally they can and do make an appearance, and i can make one more psychic hash mark counting down the rest of my time within this mortal coil. i suppose it only seems fitting that since precisely no control over the length of time i have is in my hands that i choose a timepiece that has a similar disdain for my wishes and wants.
faraday grumbles in her cat-like way when i get up for another cup of coffee. contemplating my own mortality is thirsty work. i give her one more reassuring scratch between her ears as i wander in stocking feet, back to the kitchen.
posted by ginonymous at
10:43 AM
8 Comments:
That was good. Is that true about the ice storms in summer? Is it hail?
Ahhhhhhhhhh! Brava.
faraday likes to have her ears scratched. but she is very stupid.
The little I know about Kansas is from the Wizard of Oz...ice storms in summer fall right in line with my previous knowledge. Great job amazing anonymous!
Is being in an ice storm kinda like being in that movie "The Ice Storm". Everyone gets all melancholy and melodramatic and decide they actually hate each other and William Hurt plays the same character he plays in every movie he's ever been in? Is it like that?
Yeah, except for the William Hurt part.
The worst thing about living in Southern California is the weather hardly changes, so you don't have many weather markers telling the change of time. It's like all of a sudden five years have passed and you didn't realize it. I love that your memories are tied in with the weather.
JJ: yep. you've never seen weather like this. you may joke about "don't like the weather? wait fifteen minutes, and it'll change.." it's not a joke here. it's documentary.
spinning girl and melody: thank you both! and welcome to my blog.
mp: thank you as well, although i wish we had the field of poppies..
cali: not so much with the melancholy, not for me anywho. it either means a day off work, or that (recall, i work for the UPS) we throw all our deadlines out the window and work slowly and carefully. in either case, the inevitability of having to go slow on ice days is sort of calming..
neil: it's hard not to link my memories with weather here..it's so very present, you dig? it's more a character than a setting.
and nick: faraday says screw you. although it sounded a lot like "miaow", it was definitely "screw you"..something about, stupid hat? maybe stupid hat? i'm not sure. my correspondence course in Cat was not worth the money i paid..
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