Sunday, February 6, 2011

Winter Time


Yesterday the sun ventured out for a while and actually did some minor thawing, although it could not make a dent in the huge piles of snow. DH and the neighbor both were on their roofs for hours pushing off snow in preparation for the next inches coming our way. Both wives stood on the driveways looking like cheerleaders when actually we were more like emergency responders, our hands in pockets, fingers on cell phones for 911 if needed. All went well but it was a wearing day.

This morning, again gray and we wait for what is coming…today, Tuesday, whenever. I opened up my email early and found quite a sunny perk there though when poet Olive Sullivan sent me a spring poem! It is lovely, and after reading it, I felt like a robin had perched on my shoulder. I thought, how nice she wasn’t trying to be published, just sharing. The joy she sent to everyone’s mailbox this morning must be worth so much more than dollars. I wonder if she realized how her poem paid off? Why don’t we just share our writing anyway? Well, of course we want paid, and we want that stamp of approval “publishing” gives. But there is this lovely side of giving our work away that Olive practiced this morning.

Olive is an excellent poet living in Pittsburg, Kansas. She is multi-talented in the arts and has a support group of other writers and poets that she interacts with regularly. She has a small poetry collection published as We Start As Water. You can visit her at


Linda O'Connell said...

I don't know which was more breathtaking, your poem which captured the essence of winter, or your hubby on the roof! I love,"knuckled to bare limbs."

Rebecca said...

Several parallels in our lives recently - including husbands on the roof. I just completed My Reading Life (Conroy). Your review was one in a string of references to this book that sent me searching for it! I finished it this afternoon and found it impossible to review properly. I'm still tingling from the thrill of it.

I like several of your word pictures--shovels standing stiff in military attention, green ferns sagging in defeat, etc.

Lisa Ricard Claro said...

Hi Claudia - You're right about giving our work away. In a way, though, we do that every time we post to our blogs. :) I do understand what you mean, though, especially with receiving that poem from your friend. I'm sure she's gratified to know how much it touched you.