I just saw my son and a couple of his friends off to school. They had stayed up all night at our house to finish a video project due in their Spanish class today. They’re headed out now in Angelo’s car, but not before they spent several minutes trying to get to the door locks through the generous coating of ice left by this weekend’s weather. I think the eventual solution involved a lighter. A sleepless night, a frigid start, teenagers playing with fire — all before the coffee kicks in. Happy Monday.
I’m glad for the precipitation — we desperately need the water here or this summer’s heat is going to burn everything. It was also magical to wake up on Sunday to see every surface slicked with ice, the individual ripples and curves of the sleet preserved as if still in motion across car windows and handrails.
The ice has been surprisingly resistant, though. I know many people spent a half hour or more trying to scrape it from their windshields; the sidewalk in front of my house has required two applications of salt just to start breaking it up. Clear, thin, lovely, and tenacious.
Misleading because it’s transparent, the ice coat is a metaphor for me this week. I have some really difficult things to do but my way is clear.
My hands are already cold, though, and I didn’t sleep much last night (boys, video editing). I’m worried I won’t have the energy for all the cracking and scraping that will be required.
It’s going to be below freezing most of this week, a time to bundle up, be smart about the use of energy, and get to work.