One Day in the Life of, me, this winter, or, How I Will Survive

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Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn secretly wrote One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich during the Cold War, and now, decades later, during this unforgiving winter, I am warmed by the sense of dignity and hope he instills in his gulag–bound characters. Not to diminish the suffering of the 5,000,000 prisoners who endured cruelty and hardships under Stalin’s rule, but I too am feeling the burdens of this winter season. Crushing cold, violent storms, grey upon white, and a stretch of days ahead that screech more of the same. Survive? Well yes, I will, but I will certainly steal from the wisdom of Solzhenitsyn to make it through. After all, with day after day of sub-zero weather this winter, we can all feel Siberia in our very bones, right? And we need his words more than ever…

Thankfully my survival depends on my own constructs, and is not predicated on outsmarting corrupt guards in a work camp. I find small promises where I can, like sipping my Sunday morning tea in bed. Hot and black with frothed milk. And yes, snuggled under a down comforter. The raw day can wait…

morning

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Finishing Touches

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Getting dressed for your day can be a daunting task if you are feeding kids and packing lunches. Or even if you’re not. Getting your whole look together in the dark dawn can often mean pulling on that same old thing too many times. My daughter, once she reached 7th grade and decided what she wore to school defined her, began arranging her outfits the night before. She carried this habit into her adult life, especially when she has an important affair, she plots out her whole look beforehand, tries it on, fiddles with accessories, to work out the whole ensemble. Smart girl who grew to become a professional stylist. As of today, I rarely get that far with my wardrobe, but I do stop before I head out the door and view my whole self, then add a flourish here or there to make my look as signature as my spirit. I encourage you, tomorrow, reach for something new, switch up your hairstyle, don a neglected pair of earrings, a colorful bracelet, just play with your finishing touches.

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Care Package

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For my longtime readers, I hope you allow me the indulgence of reblogging this post from 2011; for my new readers here is another family-fun memory which I hope you enjoy!

Nine Cent Girl's avatarNine Cent Girl

The twinge of fever hit mid-day, but it wasn’t until supper that I found myself unable to get warm. Banished to a guest room my first night into the underworld of the flu was a long and lonely one. However, as this is 2011, and our smart phones connect us through Facebook and Twitter and Email, my mother, a mere 1500 miles away, heard I was ill and called the following morning to get the story firsthand. As I was unable to talk, my mother quickly resorted to email, and shortly informed me a care package would be overnighted that very afternoon.

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