New England got hit with its first major snow storm of the winter. We’ve got about 10-12 inches of snow out there. On Saturday morning, I walked with the dog and took some pictures of village life.
My neighbor hard at work.
Village Christmas Tree and Opal
Town Playground
Village Green
Merry Christmas from our house to yours!
We have another red head in the family. For years only my sister Laura could claim that title. She got the carrot-top genes from my dad (back when he had hair.)
Now Elena, my 18 year old, is a decided redhead.
That is, she decided to become a redhead. She used to be a honey blonde.
On her 18th birthday, a hairstylist chopped layers and bangs into her chin-length bob.
The next day, I came home to find Elena’s head wrapped in a do-rag. “I just put henna on,” she informed me. I groaned.
“Stop it,” she said. “Grandma said you’ve always done crazy things with your hair.”
I plead the fifth.
So now Elena’s a henna’d red head. She’s glam in a Paris-in-the-30s-kind of way.
We had our first snowfall on Sunday. What a magical moment to awaken and see the world blanketed in pristine white. Opal, our yellow lab, tentatively stuck her head out the kitchen door, looking perplexed and sniffing pensively. She’d seen snow once as a puppy, but I don’t think she remembered. Convinced it was safe, she set off with me on our hike through the nearby woods.
We passed a small pond on our way. In the center of the pond there was a gaggle of geese strutting about. They were supernatural geese, feathered friends who looked like they could walk on water. In reality, the cold temps had set the pond just enough to support their weight. Over the scrim of ice there was still a shallow layer of water, and their webbed feet sent up micro-splashes.
Jesus Geese levitating on the surface of the water. Watching them was a religious experience.
marna@householdbaggage(dot)com
I’m ashamed to admit I had a familiar experience at the grocery check-out the other day. As the cashier rang up my purchases, I glanced at the plastic bags and said, “Darn, I left my shopping bag in the car.” The bagger chuckled and said, “We hear that a lot. Probably 80% of our customers say it.”
While it’s some consolation to hear I’m not alone, I still feel wildly irresponsible. To be sure, I reuse my plastic bags. They line my kitchen and bathroom trash cans; they serve doggy doody on walks. All the extra bags go in the recycle bin. But I see other women gamely struggling across a windy parking lot with an armful of green totes. Why can’t I remember mine?
So here’s the deal: The stores need to remind us well-intentioned but brain-dead customers. For instance, the local grocery recently posted a small sign on the front door: “Did you remember your reusable shopping bags?” OK, that’s a start, but some of us need a more heavy-handed tactic.
Like a big billboard as you drive in the parking lot: “Don’t forget bags!”
And smaller signs in front of each parking spot: “Remember reusable bags!”
And how about big bold reminders painted on the parking lot as you approach the store: “BRING SHOPPING BAGS!”
And a no-doubt-about-it poster on the front door: “Go back and get the bags.”
With all this helpful re-education, I might one day be able to pull out my canvas tote and say to the clerk, “I brought my own bag today.”