The ‘eating my feelings’ category

Bluebird Skies

February 22nd, 2022


I came home from a 3+-hour board meeting in town to the faint mewing of a despondent cat, trapped inside the file cabinet in my office. Everyone else in the house was asleep. The next morning, my daughters swore with straight faces that they hadn’t put her there.

It’s winter break week, or, as it’s known to working parents, I-Don’t-Get-A-Break week. This is traditionally the time when my freelance work inexplicably picks up after a relatively mellow first few months of the year, and I have zero extra bandwidth for projects.

It’s also the time when crazy things happen that you didn’t see coming. Just to make things extra nutty, the main electrical breaker in our house now blows every time I try to run a major appliance. Our downstairs bathroom is nonfunctional because of plumbing, er, issues that will definitely require some major bleach once we get them sorted. My exquisite huntress-cat catches mice several times a week, but unfortunately she doesn’t catch them all, according to “evidence” I found in the kitchen drawers and cabinets. I am also pretty sure I have a mouse family living in my car.

When you’re really in the weeds, a fun exercise is to look back on one’s calendar to see what one was up to two years ago, just before the pandemic hit. I had forgotten that my brother and I had formed a two-person “Diners of Southern Vermont” club and were trying to hit up a different diner once a month or so for weekend breakfast. Oh the good old days!

My daughters were on winter break then, too, and were attending a daily art camp at the River School Gallery. One of those days, I had lunch with a friend in town! Imagine!

What a life. 

Of course, it looks like I also had a UTI at the time, so I was probably profoundly miserable. Ah well. The Before Times weren’t always that great, to be honest. Still, they didn’t feel so life or death all the time.

Things are looking up, though. COVID cases are slowly going down around here. People are gathering in person again, whether that’s out of a reckless sense of fed-upness or a prudent response to the pandemic trends.

Harris Hill Ski Jump on the 100th anniversary of the annual event

Harris Hill Ski Jump on the 100th anniversary of the annual event


And after weeks of icy cold winter ennui of the highest order, yesterday was a beautiful bluebird winter day with just a hint of spring. The day started by taking my daughters to Memorial Park to try out ski racing for the first time at our adorable local ski hill. It was an iconic time I was only sad that their dad missed, because he had to work. 

Eliza queuing up for her first-ever ski race

Eliza queuing up for her first-ever ski race


And the true icing on the proverbial and literal cake: Amy’s Bakery Arts Cafe is back open. I celebrated by taking the girls in and getting three carrot cake cupcakes with buttercream frosting and sprinkles. I enjoyed Every. Damn. Bite.

Amy's is open again! Hallelujah!

Amy’s is open again! Hallelujah!


If there is one thing COVID has taught us, it’s this: Get that cupcake.

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