Tuesday, February 3, 2009

back in the saddle... again.

Photo used courtesy of Flickr.

It has been a hard transition into 2009 for me.

My beloved Grandmother got to go home to Heaven in time for New Year's. In case you didn't know, I was her namesake. She had been admitted earlier in the week, but the family was called to the hospital on Christmas Eve. Needless to change, in the course of a conversation with the doctor, the world changed. It was simply going to be a matter of time. Christmas dawned after a sleepless night in uncomfortable chairs. To stretch sore joints, I walked about with the hospital with my uncle and purloined "breakfast" of juice and pop tarts from a vending machine. The next five days were full of tears and laughs, memories and music... We came and went in waves, only ever returning home long enough to sleep, shower and change clothes. Once, while everyone else was asleep, I reached for the soft skin behind her upper arm that I used to play with as a child. I turned back from the elevator the night before she passed to kiss her one last time and am so grateful that I did. My eyes prick with tears just thinking about it.

The last of the thank you notes have been sent for the outpouring of cards, flowers and food that we received. For blessings that were given as we dealt with loss. That hollow feeling that lingers and remind us that we were never meant to experience death and separation... the longing to have every tear wiped away as our loved one is ushered into the presence of the Lord.

A picture of the sunset on Christmas Day as I drove home from the hospital.

And then... right as illness was settling in, bodies exhausted and drained, susceptible to bronchitis and the cursed stomach flu ravaging Ohio, winter settled in with a fury. Prior to then, it had been content to be mild and inconsistent. But no, it decided to storm in and made itself a prominent guest. For days and weeks. And even now refuses to leave entirely. Cabin fever is not pleasant when you long to see the sun or temperatures above "arctic tundra". That silly groundhog has confirmed, for all that he is a prognosticator, six more weeks of it. I'm just grateful that my driveway is finally clear of show and a thick sheet of ice, even if the street isn't.

It looks like the bushes were crying and the tears froze as they fell.

I love how graphic this shot is. And how I lucked into capturing it.

The wintry magic fairyland of snowfall and streetlamp light.

January is behind me... and February is now looming large, even if the month is short. For it marks lots of celebrations. President's Day. Valentine's Day. The one year anniversary of Alice Adair's grand opening. The farewell to my 20's and start of my 30's -- though I have still not determined if I shall go for something quiet and sedate or an all-out carnival-esque party. And I'm back in the saddle... back in my routine. My shoulders are squared and I find myself smiling at every sunrise and sunset I glimpse {especially since Ohio only has 200 sunny days a year} grateful for the day I've had and the day that is coming tomorrow. And I'm dreaming of spring...

New product will be online next week and I'm excited to show you some darling seasonal wax angels from S.E. Townsend that should be arriving any day now. Also stay tuned as I won't let my celebrating my birthday without some sort of party favor for each of you.

Hope everyone is staying warm and well. In such a spirit, I'm off to make myself yet another hot chocolate. Grace and peace!

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