I’m still in my pjs from yesterday. No shower in 24 hours. Really! The timing was perfect. Just home and still on Tel Aviv time, I’ve been up at 2:30 AM each morning and then sleeping through the day. I’m hoping that that will change today/tonight.
But yesterday, actually from Friday afternoon through Saturday and who knows, maybe more today, I’ll be right here above the Hudson, making no move until I see my walkways in their blacktop and the same in back on the road to my garage. I know, you’re thinking I’m crazy for my acceptance, living with cabin fever. But unlike you, I love an excuse to just stay put, make a fire in my fireplace, watch movies, read a good book, drink coffee and a bit of vodka, cook something in my working oven.
And that was my Saturday!
Oh, and Christine invited me to join the latest HVWP Institute online session at 8:30 and I jumped in. Loved it, in fact, I’ve started to accept some work in the next few months. You’re smiling! I know, it’s healthy, a source a pleasure for me to return to the work that matters to me. Andrea and I are planning to return to our data research as well. And I have a documentary to work on as well- yours. Am I ready to watch a few hours of our conversations, editing with the help of Ami’s transcripts of the text? Not sure. Let’s see…
Funny though, as easy as it was to hunker down here for the last few days, I’m remembering the last snowstorm that we shared here.
It was a Saturday morning, just like yesterday. There was a travel ban declared for NY and NJ. The snow was still falling from the night before and I was giddy with romantic excitement- a snow day beginning with a lovely brunch in front of the fireplace.
I was up first, quietly out of bed to prepare the living room space and make coffee #1 for both of us. You were up soon after and I could hear you going through your early morning rituals in your bathroom preparing for the day. As I poured your glass of Oj and waited for you to appear, you joined me in motion- dressed for a different day, ready to grab your winter coat and head out.
“What? You can’t go anywhere. There’s a travel ban. Look at channel 4’s weather news! I have plans for us”.
“‘ll be back soon. I need to get home, make sure the house is okay, get the NY Times and make sure my driveway gets plowed. I know how to drive in winter. Remember I lived in Michigan where winter latest for 7 months.”
I begged and pleaded for you to stay with me and I knew it didn’t matter what I said.You were in motion and on your way.
No cell phones then. For the next three hours I held my breath.
The usual 20-30 minutes took you 3 hours, maybe more.
The phone finally rang:
“Bonnie, I’m home. I’m okay. It took an hour to clean off my car and dig out. It took hours to get home. No roads were plowed. I had to stop often to clean off the windshield. There’s no way I will get plowed out. There’s no way I can get back to you today.”
I was crying, relived. I wanted to yell, to say- I told you so!
“Tuvia, I’m so glad to hear your voice. I wish you were here with me.”
We never spent another snow here. Paramus was usually easier, but it wouldn’t have been easy yesterday. There was even more snow at the house, but I’m sure you would have driven me crazy, trying to get out too soon.
We were never on the same page when it came to enjoying a day inside. Good thing that wasn’t true about most things.
Miss you. even when you tortured me.