ice storm in the country

The sun rises on a world in crystal under a flawless, pure blue sky.

Light sparks off the pine tree outside the window. Daddy goes out and brings back a small bough. We pass it around carefully.

Each branch and needle is encased in ice an eighth of an inch thick. The needles tinkle faintly as they click against each other.

It would be courting death to go into the woods behind the house. We can hear the explosive cracks as trees give way under the weight of ice. We check the phone and lights regularly to see if the wires have come down. Only fools drive before the ice melts.

We keep the crystallized branch in the freezer for a year.

I thought I posted this earlier today before I had to bolt and run, but apparently I didn't hit "post" before I closed the window. Here 'tis, such as it is. We've all seen the commercial:

She doesn't remember her dream when a rumble of heavy equipment brings her awake. There's a hiss of air brakes, and from outside an emergency light revolves, strobing on the wall. She gets to the door, flings it wide, and sees a snowplow idling at the curb. He's halfway up the walk, he sees her and his smile is equal parts triumph and wonder. Then he's in her arms, fresh flakes dusting wool cold and scratchy, with body warmth beneath. He puts a small box in her hand. Inside, brilliant and cold, lies a token of their heat.

(PS, I think she's stupid for A. going out without a coat, B. leaving the door wide open. and Also? I dislike diamonds. But, you know...ice.)

Every time I see that commercial--and the one before it, when he calls to tell her that the storm's so heavy no one can travel, then he dashes off into the night--I say to Hubby, "Don't ever do that, OK?" And he says, "I know, you'd yell at me for risking myself in that bad of weather."

Huh. I 've never seen the first one, only the one. And FTR, I think it's dumb. But, you know, it probably hits its romantic target market.

I've managed to miss those. Just as well.

And I'm into emeralds, not diamonds, so they really wouldn't hit me where I live.

Hmmm. Feeling another one coming.

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire

I'm holding on to you. You're what I've loved, from the moment I saw you, holding out a hand, telling me your name. The hand had a ring on it, third finger. I crawled away and wept.

Some say in ice

Then she cheated, and I slipped through the crack in your happiness. I rescued you, fed you, warmed you. Now I'm burning, your lips at my throat, my legs wrapped around you.

From what I've tasted of desire

Don't let me go. Please.

I hold with those who favor fire.

Iced Tea

We are a strange family. We have the most particular tastes. We only like things one way. We each order our favorite things from restaurants, rarely wavering. And when we do try something new, it’s usually a disaster that congeals in a Styrofoam take-home container for weeks. But the one thing I will remember for the rest of my life is my grandmother ordering iced tea.

“Take the glass. Fill it with ice. Pour in the tea just shy of the top. Add more ice.”

Everywhere we went. At every single restaurant for my entire life.

The woman is strange.

shakes hands with Aimee's grandmother, since that's precisely how I like my iced tea done

How else does one make iced tea?

I remember this as a quote, but I don't remember the source:

"Americans are crazy. They brew a perfectly normal pot of strong tea, then they pour it over ice to make it cold and weak, they add lemon to make it sour, sugar to make it sweet, and mint to make it green."

It's not so much that that's how she likes her tea- I do too for that matter, it needs to be frigid cold! - but Sally Albright isn't as anal retentive about her chef salad as my grandmother is about her iced tea. She's had pitchers of just ice delivered to her table so she can do it if they fail to do it right. It's high-larious.