Don’t jump in the big chariot; it will only make you dusty.

Snow and more snow. It loses its charm after a while. I watched it coming down at an angle while we were in the bar this afternoon, the tavern where Hubby played. I got to sing some as well, not much, just a couple of numbers. If I hadn’t been so tired and distracted, I might have had more fun.

My mom called this morning to tell me that she had definitely made up her mind that she wanted to get rid of the house (her words) and move into some place where she wouldn’t be alone. She said she’d been thinking about it for quite some time, but putting it into actual words made it more real somehow. She wanted to know if I had any opinions or suggestions, and I said that I was glad she had come to this conclusion on her own, that no one had forced her into it or that circumstance hadn’t made it a choice made for her instead of by her. Really, that’s all I can do.

Now comes the logistical part, cleaning out her house, getting rid of what she can’t take with her to wherever she goes, and putting it on the market. The sorry truth is that whoever buys it will wreck the building and put up a monstrosity like the rest of her neighbours’. It makes me sad. The maple in the front that was just a twig and is now a mighty tree perfect for climbing will probably be chopped down. The spruce in the backyard under which are buried my dad’s ashes will probably suffer a similar fate. I don’t even want to think about it. It just makes me too sad.

And through all this, the snow keeps falling. We’re born, we plan for retirement, we die. Sometimes I wonder why we bother with all the other stuff.

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