A Snowy Saturday

The snow whispers around me

And my wooden clogs

Leave holes behind me in the snow.

But no one will pass this way

Seeking my footsteps,

And when the temple bell rings again

They will be covered and gone.

Amy Lowell

The first snow of the year.  My food is simmering on the stove, and I am sitting here in front of the window, watching the snow gently fall to the ground, and almost 'too' gently it falls.  I'd actually been hoping for a more spectacular view, but the snow has not lived up to what was forecasted, at least in my section of Brooklyn.  But, I've talked about this for so long and now, here I am, enjoying my rocking chair just as I always said I would. Took some pictures, but I'm still trying to find a way to download them. The memory card doesn't work, and the wire my son was using got bent in the move.  I know I have to buy a new one, but now I have misplaced the old one, so I don't even know what to ask for.  The photo above is from last year. 

After I posted yesterday, I took a shower, put on my makeup, all but got dressed and heard the weatherman say 'snow up to 4pm on Saturday.  3 to 5 inches', and picked up my phone to call in.  Did my food shopping yesterday instead.  I have to say, I am missing my old supermarket.  I've been to this new one three times, and still can't get used to it.  Told one of the workers there I felt like I was getting a 'workout' at the gym what with all these armlifts and running around.  Seems like just about every other item I need is up so high I have to stretch to reach it.  I did mention that I didn't think it was the wisest move to keep ten pound bags of cat litter on a shelf so high.  What if someone reached for it, and it fell on their head?  I tend to think of silly things like that, but hey, it can happen. 

I'm anxious now to get a small table for my kitchen so I can begin my garden. My blogger friend, Wendy  has the greatest indoor garden.  She really has inspired me.  I've so many things on my list to buy, but a small table to sit in front of my window has moved to the head of the list.  Hubby says there won't be much room, but the way I look at it is, 'where there is a will, there is a way.'  Any suggestions from you indoor gardeners?

My heart is a garden tired with autumn,

Heaped with bending asters and dahlias heavy and dark,

In the hazy sunshine, the garden remembers April,

The drench of rains and a snow-drop quick and clear as a spark;

Daffodils blowing in the cold wind of morning,

And golden tulips, goblets holding the rain—

The garden will be hushed with snow, forgotten soon, forgotten—

After the stillness, will spring come again?

Sara Teasdale