Stopping by Woods on a Snowy
Evening
By Robert Frost (1923
Whose woods these are I think
I know.
His house is in the village
though;
He will not see me stopping
here
To watch his woods fill up
with snow.
My little horse must think it
queer
To stop without a farmhouse
near
Between the woods and frozen
lake
The darkest evening of the
year.
He gives his harness bells a
shake
To ask if there is some
mistake.
The only other sound’s the
sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark
and deep.
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I
sleep,
And miles to go before I
sleep.
Thanksgiving was really good
for us at the Smith’s. The meal was
fantastic, carb-heavy, and every single dish delicious. The talk was really witty and intelligent; I made friends with
the three children who attended' and there were no tears or quarrels or loud
arguments. It snowed wetly off and on all day,
so we left before dark when the temperature was dropping and roads threatened
to become treacherous.
I’ve been gift shopping both
online and out in the stores – though I didn’t go out on Black Friday, having a strong
sense of self-preservation – and so far,
so good. Found some bargains, even found just what I was looking for once in awhile. Ann Peters and I went to St. George’s on Friday
and set up the Bethlehem Christmas display. Joseph and Mary are standing at the door to the inn where the innkeeper is telling them there's no room.
We added a sleeping Centurion and an olive-oil shop this year. And I came up with a cute idea to engage the
children: I have some very tiny sheep I use as lambs, and I took one and hid it
in the town. On a set of questions I
left for viewers to answer, I challenged the children to find it, saying that
anyone who does gets to hide it somewhere else in town. An eight-year-old girl from Children’s Chapel
on Sunday found it hiding among a flock of mixed poultry and hid it again
inside the inn – you can barely see it from outside and only if you’re looking
at just the right angle. Clever!
I was going through a desk
drawer looking for thumbtacks (I found drawing pins instead, which I learned only a
couple of years ago is the word for the tacks with a long head instead of a
flat one), when I came across a little laser pointer I’d forgotten I had. Our cat Panzi used to be wild about chasing
the little red dot. So I pointed it at
the carpet where she could see it and found she is still wild about it, if in a
feeble way. She chased it at a slow trot
and swiped at it clumsily for a minute or two.
She is very old and alleged to be dying, but is taking her time over it,
and keeps surprising us with hints of the youngster she used to be. She is down to skin and bones, and has this
senile habit of bursting into loud cries at random moments, but I guess we
won’t ask the vet to stop by with the lethal-sleep needle for a little while
longer.
I went to Fleet/Farm over the
weekend to buy a real metal John Deere tractor for a great-nephew who is five
and has a grandfather who farms. This
one, seven inches high, has a button you press to make it give off tractor-starting-up
sounds. It comes with one implement and
you can buy more. I knew I could get an
authentic model at Fleet/Farm. On my way
out I passed a row of artificial Christmas trees and one caught my eye. It was a blue spruce, rather fat – almost a
bush – four and a half feet tall, a size that’s hard to find. And the price was not as high as I thought it
might be. And there was only one left. So I put it in the cart. Our old tree, three feet tall, was getting
kind of defeated-looking. It spent a
couple of hours down on the “free” table in our building’s underground parking
ramp before being taken away. Meanwhile the
new one is taking up all the room on
the little cabinet that usually holds a purse or two (or three) and in /out
mail. I put the lights on it yesterday
evening, and I’ll start decorating it today.
The little bit of snow we got
for Thanksgiving is being piled onto.
Couple inches yesterday, more due today.
Roads very hazardous. Brrrr, the
chill is not just from the cold, it’s from that moment when you press on the
brake and the car begins to slide.
4 comments:
It all sounds interesting -- and gave me a thought: what if a creche owned by an Excelsior family turned out to be so valuable that somebody thought it'd be worth murdering over? Just a thought.
I particularly identified with a couple of things in your post, Monica. My younger dog Mystie loves to chase laser lights and flashlight beams and sunbeams and shadows and anything that glows--and even licks our walls to get them to gleam under lights!
And my young grandsons love to visit their Gigi's (great grandma's) farm and ride on tractors and quad-runners.
And lots of luck to Panzi that she lives for a long, comfortable while.
Back before laser lights, I had a big wrist-watch with a reflective dial that would catch the morning sunlight and make a spot on the floor or wall. I noticed it by accident one morning when our super-intelligent cat Wobbles (she had a physical problem walking or running) saw it and began to chase it. One day I was upstairs in the afternoon and caught the lowering sunlight with it and started Wobbles chasing it. Then she looked at me and saw me wriggling my wrist and came over to sit beside me and watch the light dance up the wall. Then she watched the watch, then her head went back and forth as she made the connection. The light wasn't magic, it was something I was doing. She sniffed the watch on my wrist, watched it make a dancing light, but never chased it again.
It sounds like you are on top of things for the holidays. I'm still in shock that it is December.
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