Add More Layers [David’s blog on KS Friday]

As I write this I have my feet under a blanket. I’m wearing three layers of clothes beneath my favorite Patagonia vest and I can say with all certainty, with deepest conviction, that I am not warm. It’s been trying to snow all day. I want another pair of socks on top of the pair that I’m already wearing. Fear not! This is normal winter behavior for me. I am always cold.

The silver lining in piling on layers and layers of clothing is that I look like a bigger guy. Someone with muscle and heft. Also, my perpetually cold red nose makes me look like I’ve just come from the bar. A passerby might confuse me for someone who is raucous and boisterous instead of the meek introvert that I am. In truth, beneath all of this clothing, I am only exuberant in my writing. Corner me at a party or in the lobby of a theatre and I will almost certainly convince you that I am a nincompoop or in a whisky stupor since you’ll no doubt confuse my red nose as booze-induced. I have no reputation to uphold so I’m good with your misperception either way.

Our favorite neighbor, John, rarely wears a coat. He is in shirt-sleeves even when ice is forming on my eyebrows. I envy his inner warmth though my envy is not green but ice-blue. I consider him the 8th wonder of the world since his capacity to thrive coatless in the subarctic temperatures is a pyramid-sized-wonder. His wife, Michele (also our favorite neighbor), recently texted, “I know it’s cold because John put a coat on.” I ran out to see if it was true. John dons a coat maybe once a century. It was true. He had a coat on so as a preventative measure I ran back inside and quickly added several more layers, then dove beneath a quilt.

Kerri called this photograph, “Snow Burden”. I immediately identified with it. “That’s me!” I thought, my teeth clacking. A skinny stalk bending beneath the weight of the cold, cold snow. Leaves wilted, curling and brittle in the frozen air. Afraid to move for fear of shattering. Dreaming of the sun.

This is no joke. Kerri just had the audacity to ask, “I’m-hot-you-hot?” I said nothing, incredulous that she could look at me shivering (though beefy in my many layers) and somehow miss my crimson-red nose.

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful…”

waiting/joy! a christmas album © 1998 kerri sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blogpost about SNOW BURDEN

share. like. support. comment. bundle up. light a fire. all good things.

buymeacoffee is a warm blanket for the artists you value who are possibly at this very moment freezing in the snow.

Greet The Snow [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Like the return of an old friend, the snow finally came. It’s funny. Most winters we yearn for warm summer days. This winter our conversation has been about the absence of any real snowfall. We’ve had dustings but nothing worthy of a snowman. It made me realize that cold weather is no fun unless there’s something to stomp through or ski on. Walking in the cold is just…cold. Walking in the snow is an event.

The snow also brings an aesthetic magic. It paints the trees. Since the return of our old friend snow, we regularly stand in the kitchen and stare in awe at the striking lines tracing the path of the limbs. The lines change color throughout the day, morphing from purple through white to vibrant orange. It re-animates the forest left barren by fallen leaves. What was brown and sad a few short weeks ago is made remarkable, proud in its frosty adornment.

The day the snow came home we strapped on our heavy boots, slipped into our thick coats, pulled our hats onto our heads, and stepped into the muted world, a quiet that is only made possible by fluffy falling flakes. We pulled up our hoods and walked a loop around the neighborhood taking the trail that leads behind the Kemper Center and along the lake. Turning our pink faces toward crazy flakes made us giggle.

The snow beckons. It calls us out. Cold toes and layered clothes, we’ll appreciate the change until that fateful day when we think the snow has overstayed its welcome. We’ll turn our conversation back to warmth and the deck, and yearn for sunny days. Fickle people, never content for very long.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SNOW

Warm Hearts [on DR Thursday]

The past few days in Wisconsin have confirmed my suspicion: the ice age will not be fun. Long underwear is no match for mother nature when she’s giving you the cold shoulder.

It was an uncomfortable coincidence that we watched the movie The Day After Tomorrow a few short hours before the temperatures plummeted. It was almost as uncanny as the night we watched Contagion with Brad and Jen because we heard news stories of a virus in China that might become a pandemic. In both cases, when life mimicked the film, Kerri said, “I feel like I’m living the movie.”

I can only conclude that we need to watch different movies.

While hunkered down and very much appreciating the modern thermostat, heat at the touch of a button, I think Love Actually might be an excellent choice of film-invocation (Hugh Grant voice over: Love actually IS…all around us). The Family Stone is another good option. The complex nature of love. It makes me laugh and warms my heart every time.

Invoking warm hearts on frigid days is a worthy pursuit. Invoking warm hearts on any-old-day is a worthy pursuit but is certainly made more poignant when facing the ice age. Now, if only Dennis Quaid would show up with a helicopter cavalry and whisk us away to warmer climates! A boy can dream.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE DEEP FREEZE

A Day At The Beach, 38x52IN

a day at the beach © 2017 david robinson