REPORT A PROBLEM
the cold creeps into this little room. it has mapped the floor and grabs now with sharp fingers at my feet, my legs.
i sit cross legged in this chair, my cold feet pulled up underneath me, sheltering.
the days are short, the sun does not reach in here but for brief mocking moments in the late afternoon when a single shaft sometimes gropes it's way through a hole in the siding, across the vacant space outside, and in through this one small window.
It lands on the wall, lance-like. a message from the outside world. it doesn't last.
the sun creeps out, weak and dim, the determined sky a thin gray layer whispering with snow that clings in it's curtains waiting to fall when the time is right.
tonight, there will be snow and cold more intense than it has been and we will huddle in our blankets and curse our lives.
Even now, some great beast is paused behind the hills, it's back a bed of needles and frost, it's eyes mossy stones, it's great claws are oaks, the staves holding together the barrel sided earth.
we flounder in his electric teeth and wait to be swallowed.
I woke before daylight, cold† and shivering, my share of the blanket was twined around you. I covered you with an extra blanket, wrapped a shawl around my cold shoulders and came to hover over the heater, it's thin updraft of barely heated air slowly warmed me and drove away the chills that had threatened to take hold. I try and see out the window to the other window in the front of the building. It is still too dark, but I know it is snowing. A car goes by, slow and sloppy. Outside, snow gathers in the road.
I went out and cleaned the window to better see when the snow comes. Washing away the nose prints where the cats sit on the wooden steps and sun themselves on cold days, and the dust and dirt and carcasses of insects wrapped in spiderweb, I wonder if my neighbors can see me. Do they wonder about the woman inside this old weathered building, can they see me wiping and spraying and wiping again at these panes. Can they tell that I'm clearing a passage for my sight that I may better see the passing of the storm?
"Come here, go with me a little ways up the path between the walnut trees and over to the creek. Want to? Letís sit in the sun and watch the water and, maybe a train will come and go over the little bridge. You can listen to it echoing underneath the bridge.
Let's go, you want too? Weíll sit there all afternoon and maybe see the cranes with their slender legs, maybe we'll see some little fish dart by all silvery, or fat spotty frogs! Would you go with me? weíll stay as long as you like, maybe even forever."
It's cold in here, my fingers are like ice and it's hard to type, my nose is cold and running, my toes are cold and I'm wearing layers of clothing.
This oil radiator heater is no match for 14 degree temps with the wind blowing. But, without it, without the electricity to run it, I would be more miserable than I am now.
Nights like this I think of homeless people and wonder how on earth do they stay warm in their tents or makeshift shelters? I think of them and am thankful for this little heater.
thank you God.
letís talk about water. it sounds simple doesnít it? and simplicity is part of the problem.
no one in the developed countries can conceive of a world where there is no water.
In the US, how many people use rainwater?
If you learn nothing else, learn about water. Learn what you need to know about collecting and purifying your own water source.
the people in control have already figured all this out. as long as you are reliant on someone else for your own water or food, you're subject to their rules and regulations and additives.
Cold tonight. calling for 12 degrees.
This morning you could see your breath in here in the room so we stayed in bed underneath the warm covers as long as possible.
After we got up, I put some kerosene in this antique sad iron stove and got it going. It is helping. At least I can't see my breath now. Most likely, I'll be bitching about the cold for a while.
It's lining up to be as bad a winter as it was a summer. Now, they're calling for a monster snow storm this weekend.
Oh goodie. I can't wait.
Iím just staying inside, trying to keep warm. I spend time in the bed wrapped in blankets with my little dog and three cats for bed warmers. It warms up in here a bit and then heaves out the warm air like a sigh and the cold rushes back.
There has got to be a hole somewhere where this draft comes in. I've looked and believe there's some coming in at the gap below the baseboard, I'll pull out the bed and get back there and put some masking tape along the crack to at least slow it down.
Weather Service is still calling for a big winter storm this weekend. I don't know if it will be as bad here as theyíre saying. I'm sure it will get really cold though even after tomorrow's warmer weather they are calling for.
At any rate, today is clear and cold and the sun as it often is in the winter months, it is sharp on the eyes. I can see it coming through gaps in the siding. The cats are gathering in the windows like statues. Snuggled into themselves they, like me, dread the night and the relentless cold.
Nice today, cloudy and in the upper 40's but...there's a winter storm watch out for the weekend. Starting Saturday night the rain we're getting then will turn to snow as the temperature drops and it will snow then through Monday with accumulations of over 6".
Wind chills come Monday will be around 10 below zero. I'm preparing to freeze my ass off in here. At least, I have food. My husband has his backpack ready and in the car in case he gets trapped at work and unless this storm changes it's path, he will get trapped at work.
I'm waiting on the snow storm. I'll be home alone because my husband will most likely be stuck at work. The roads between here and there, will be un-passable in the expected 6" of snow.
Just earlier, I went up the road to visit my friend. The snow was already whirling down, the wind fluttered it like curtains and it was covering the roads and roofs and my friends porch.
We shared some brandy and I trudged back home, carrying a little warmth from her house in my jacket, and the taste of good brandy still sweet on my tongue.
Like clockwork the sky opens and falls earthward with frigid determination. the clouds are laying inches deep upon the ground, footprints of birds speckle and rummage through the drifts.
something scratched at the window last night. scratched and pecked, then scratched again.
the window is 15 ft. above the ground, the creek rushing by within mere feet. I was afraid and put the gun by the bed.
No one was here but me, and i was afraid.
today, I look out, the snow flies by, the wind howls, and the ground covered in snow, is unmarked.
Iím still afraid.
I'm so sick of being cold, I'm also sick of writing about being cold.
It was 8 degrees this morning, I hope my chickens are still alive, I have to go out and check on them shortly. Goddamn, I'm glad I'm not a chicken or some other poor thing out in this awful cold.
Tonight, an ice storm and more snow. Have to get hub up out of the bed shortly to go to town and get a few supplies in case we're stuck in here a few days without any power. We're screwed if the electric goes out. Absolutely screwed.
We are supposed to† have a damned ice storm by morning. Oh great! that's all we need!
Hub and I went to town today and picked up groceries and kerosene just in case. I have a little sad iron stove that I can actually cook on a little. At least make some coffee or tea or heat some soup or something and, it puts out enough heat to keep us from freezing to death, more or less. LOL
At least, we have food to eat and can pile up in the bed with blankets and the cats and stay warm.
I swore I wouldn't write anymore about this horrible weather but...I woke this morning to an ice storm.
Outside, everything, and I do mean everything, is coated in a nice thick layer of ice, as gleaming and slick as and delicate as the finest crystal. Somewhere, between the plug-in for this computer and an electrical generator, a tree has fallen over a line or a transformer, or a car has slid off a road and hit a power pole.
I went back to bed and slept while the temp dropped and the cats scampered in new found shadows.
Evidently, the US Government in it's infinite wisdom, has decided that a nuclear attack by terrorists is not only possible, but survivable as well. Hell, it ain't no thang!
Y'all just get on up and go into work, keep those wheels of commerce turning!
Oh, and the Feds will be along in about 72 hours to help with the 50k-150k charred bodies laying around so not to worry about that either.
Everybody just hunker down in your McMansions and stay there for a couple weeks till the fallout gets past it's half life and then it's back to BAU!
Well, another day.
It's dark again and spitting snow. What dreary weather we've been having. Frankly, I don't care if it stays this way till spring.
It's not too bad cold in here today, the wind must not be blowing outside. I have my little dog Bobo inside my housecoat, he's like a heating pad and we keep one another warm.
The husband creature is still asleep. He won't be up till later and we'll talk awhile before he goes to work, then it's back to this. This idle wiling away of hours, talking to myself and my little dog.
Where are the owls that used to call from the trees out back, up on the hill where the sky drapes and creases with stars?
Where are the owls that once called and cried into the darkness up next to the moon?
Where are the little bats that used to fret in the evening summer air, combing insects from the sky?
Where are the fish that used to sparkle and wink in the dancing water of the creek? and the fat and lazy turtles and the funny frogs?
where have they all gone?† Will we go there too?
Losing my way. Feeling nervous and anxious and terribly afraid.
the weather is dark and heavy, it feels weighty and mean today, just like it did yesterday, and the day before, and will tomorrow and the next day.
It's almost like we've been teleported to another planet.
I have to say however, that I prefer days like this. Quiet undemanding days. When it's all sunny and bright outside, I feel like I'm forgetting to do something, something has been left undone, forgotten.
And Christmas Day? that should always at the very least, be cloudy. If it won't snow, be cloudy!
Closing on another dark day. Still, quiet, dark.
Out back, the creek mumbles incoherently to it's self as night tumbles down and I bundle up for another evening next to the heater.
Our mama cat has brought her one kitten and put it up in the bed. It's small and fluffy with tiny paws that grab everything. It's rolled on it's back playing with my sleeve as I write.
I hope tomorrow is a nice day, maybe a little sun to brighten the day and make things warmer but another snowstorm is forecast. A white Christmas is on it's way!
I wish that there was something more than weather to tell you about, something more that the tattling tongues of wind against these rotting eves, something more than the iron colored sky pressing down and down. Pushing against the gray waters of the creek out back.
I wish there was more than the fall and melt of snow, more than the plates of ice reaching and withdrawing over the edge of the creek...
but there isn't. I have only the clockwork maneuverings of nature to watch, only the passage of stormy days that stand out against the blankness and interminable solitude.
...It causes me to want to click my teeth together, as though I were clamping on firm meat.
I want to bite and rend and tear.
that was yesterday. The day that everything went wrong.
Today I would only gnaw in a non-damaging way, in a way that barely captured any attention.
One day, weeks from now, I will look out and see the dark and knotted form of a funnel cloud. It will rend and tear and not be apologetic, it will
not concern itself with apologies or things of that nature.
I will rest my sharp, white teeth.
Christmas Eve and I'm going to have company.
I just have this one room for us.
I'll pick up and make sure the bed is made, they can sit there like it's a couch.
I worry they'll get cold, or that theyíll need to go to the bathroom.
Iím sure it will be ok.
Iím sure it will.
Theyíve been here before, just not in the wintertime.
I have this electric heater going, and Iíll light the sad iron stove. That should help.
Maybe they wonít stay long.† † † †
Christmas Day and itís snowing!
I wish this room had a window that looked outside where I could watch the snow come down.
Iím cooking a ham for hub and me. Since thereís no oven in here, we got one that would fit in a crockpot and Iím cooking it in there with some potatoes. It smells delicious right now.
The wind is blowing, I feel it coming in underneath the door, the floor's so awfully cold so I sit in the bed with the blanket, waiting for supper to get done.
I canít wait!
Thank God that's over!
Whew! I hate Christmas. Christmas is only really enjoyed by people with plenty of money and clean warm houses that have running water and bathtubs. LOL
Anyway, we're getting more snow now. It's coming down at a good clip, about four inches earlier when I went out to feed the chickens. It was sticking to all the trees, every little branch and twig had a white coat.
Hub will most likely get stuck at work tonight and I'll be here by myself.
Sometimes it's scary here by myself. I have my little dog though. He's good company.
Over the hills and fields
the sky roars menacingly down.
Out where the green grass lustrous grew,
red dust now hushes and moans
it makes strange shapes with the sand.
Over the waves of dust,
over the blackened trees
that raise sharp fingers against the sky,
the whispering wind moves and arranges,
red hills and hollows of dust.
Tops of houses appear
the wind lifts the curtains to show
tops of houses appear and proclaim,
then blink and recede into death.
Over the hills and fields
where the sky roars and dead trees click,
the spirit of man roams alone,
the spirit of man roams damned.
Let the parched lips be still,
the muttering breathless whispers...
Dust and the dryness of noon
has finally collapsed this voice upon itself
and earth no longer requires it.
Silence but for the sawing and chortle of wind among
the dead and the haunted, shifting, pale red dust.
Over the tops of houses and towns
the waves of red advance and press
the billowing clouds,
choking and† mean.
It descends in lighting and static
and pours through windows and doors,
and the opened mouths and eyes of the living
and the opened souls of the damned.
We are gone. We are gone. We are gone.
For years, I have been haunted with this vision of the future.
A vision like things I've read about the Dust Bowl days except global.
Every once in a while, it becomes so insistent that I'll write about it or draw it. That's where the previous 2 entries came from, that terrible vision of a lifeless future covered in red dust.
Maybe it's not a global thing, maybe its' just certain places that will be effected by a terminal lack of rain and life giving moisture.
Maybe it's just something wedged in my mind, infesting my imagination with dust devils?
Today, I didn't have to light the sad iron stove. I didn't see my breath in this room where we live.
I believe that the sun is out too, I'll know when I go out to do my chores.
The snow has been melting and everything looks dirty, nasty and messy. I hate that about snow. It's pretty to see coming down in big feathery flakes, but later, after the snow plows and salt and sand and endless tracking of cars, and the spotty melted areas of yards and roadsides....everything takes on the look of something wounded and dying.
Last day of the year! Temperature to be warm today, and tomorrow as well. Unusually warm.
I don't know what to think about this peculiar weather. It's "unstable". And rocks back and forth between extremes.
I honestly wouldn't mind if it stayed warm like this for the rest of the winter. It sure would make life easier around here.
I will wait and write about "hopes for next year" tomorrow, or do people write their New Years hopes and dreams on New Year's Eve?
Oh, it doesn't matter one way or the other does it?
I'm doing it tomorrow. Period.†
The Tip Jar