|Posted on January 13, 2013 at 9:05 AM|
We are riding out a cold spot and the western states are so much colder than usual. Frost on the ground. Ice on the windows. Fear for the oranges and other crops. Growers are picking them early rather than let them get frozen and lose monies. Summer's trip skiing in Big Bear was a cold frozen 2 days, where she had fun but was stopped by accidents both coming and going up the 2 lane hwy to the mountains. Just glad it wasn't her.
I remember the airplane engines, on posts high above the orange groves across the street as a child. You knew to bundle up if the engines roared through the night, moving the air. It was a lonely sound. out there in the darkness if you woke up. Like the regular train in the distance. To keep the crop from freezing, Smuge pots full of kerosene would be lit and the growers would spend a long night keeping things going. In the mornings, early at the bus stop, we would pull them over, still warm from the night before. Using them for a "camp fire" till the bus came. A group of about 5 or 6 kids. Grumbling about homework and teachers. Wishing we were home in bed. Or having pancakes at least! Ah! To be in Mom's house safe and warm.
My own, Summer, rolled up early yesterday morning, after a first week of Winter Qtr. in college. Sleepy, coffee in hand. She set it down, put on a fire and curled up under the blanket on the sofa. I din't hear from her for a couple of hours. It made me think of doing the same when I was younger. Even when I was pregnant with my first child, Corey, I used to take naps on my Mom's big Cal King bed. There's a security with home. A place to dream and get started again. People to hug you. Mom to cook you food. I miss that as I miss my own Mom. Seeing in myself, so much of her and hoping I have given my own children an upbringing and memories to last them as mine did.
It's about 5 AM and the neighbor next door has a new puppy or small dog which she lets out to potty about 4:30 AM. Her baby talk to it is loud enough to disturb Cookie, who sleeps under our bed. She grumbles a low bark. I am awake and resentful. Not of her, but of the oogie,woogie sweetie surypy talk going on in the courtyard beneath my bedroom window. I'm up! Coffee in hand. The dark kitchen getting started for the day...
Categories: Life and our Hearts