Several weeks ago on a semi-mild winter day I set out for a long overdue bike ride, a rare treat given the season and the new demands on my personal schedule.
Since our move last summer to the Lower Central Susquehanna Valley my cycling outings have taken the form of a double-edged sword.
Allow me to explain.
Winter storm Jonas arrived at the perfect time as far as I am concerned.
As we drifted off to sleep last night (Friday) the storm parked itself on our doorstep.
As we awoke this morning, my eyeball estimates tell me fourteen inches of powdery, snow now blankets the ground outside our home.
Children have traveled “over the river and through the woods” to get to Grandma’s house to celebrate the long anticipated day.
The tree is decorated with ornaments and lights reflecting the promise of the season with its soft glow.
The stockings have been hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St. Nick will soon be there.
I don’t know how to describe it.
In a fog.
Out-of-kilter.
Off-cycle.
In-a-funk.
The gas gauge is on “E”.
There are times when you least expect it where memories come out of nowhere, tap you on the shoulder, and remind you of a time now in the past.
Some memories are fond. Others are very painful.
A recent call to my Mom brought one of the painful ones to the front of the class.
Photo Courtesy of Brittany Castillejo
Two letters, a vowel and a consonant, joined together to form one small and potentially impactful word.
It’s been said that “small hinges swing large doors”.
What’s true of doors is also true of how words are used.
Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons
As a child do you recall going to the local swimming pool and diving into the water for the first time off the diving board?
Whether it was the high dive or low dive it can be summed up in one word.
Terrifying.
