A snowy day

Wednesday, a little after 5 AM the phone rang and the superintendent informed me that we were on a 2-hour delay! Fine by me, I lay my head over on my pillow, flipped the TV on and tuned to a local station. It took another 25 minutes for the words to scroll across the bottom informing me that my sons were also on a 2-hour delay. Then I climbed out of bed and went from room to room spreading the good news. Tim was a little stunned, wondering why, but it accepting it. Then I lay back down and rested for another few minutes, before rising to eat my breakfast. Then deciding I could get in my 10 miles of bike riding before departing. I was almost through when another call informed me that my school was cancelled. I finished up the 10 and felt great relieve. 10 miles of bike riding complete and the day had just begun. I put clothes into wash and check on my e-mail and yahoo groups, kept an eye on the school closing web-site and posted some encouragements. It finally became apparent that the boys would have school and after a few calls to determine how Tim and Dan's finals were affected by the delay, I was able to work on some memory verses.
Then I found myself thinking back to the days of my youth and I wrote, saved, edited and finally printed and framed a free verse poem called "My Grandfather's Rose Garden" that somehow sprang from my head and fingers. It is now hanging in my dining room. I have a desire to share it with my mother, as I feel it will bring back latent memories of her own from that distant place in both space and time. But it seems most appropriate to read it in my home among the curtains, and stage in which I have set it - my own rose garden of fabrics and imagery, with silk flowers and copper butterflys and photos of bygone times. So it hangs there waiting for her to come through the door some day and happen upon it, much as visitors to the garden would happened upon some forgotten blossom hiding beneath a tree.
I spent many hours on Monday typing in entries from my 30 year old diary, but they are still saved as a draft, as I am yet unwilling to share the thoughts and feelings of myself at 19. For some reason the vulnerability I felt at that age is still present when I am reliving that time through the printed word.
A part of me is also drawn toward blogging many of my poems, yet I hesistate for I fear that some of them will be torn from me and I will find them tattered and scattered throughout the world and their meanings twisted and changed. I wait rather impatiently for the day when I will be able to assemble them in a form where I can have them published properly and retain the right to protest their manipulation.
I actually rode my bike for 20 miles yesterday. For while waiting for Joe to return home to do my 2 mile walk with me, I craved more exercise and I rode for another 10 miles. So my bike riding has propelled me further down the rode to some undetermined destination. Perhaps I should seek to travel to that rose garden, though I fear that it will no longer hold the comfort I once found in it. I have comtemplated the idea of beginning a land journey to Caracas, Nicaragua in anticipation of my flight there in June, but am still undecided. One benefit of a journey of the mind is that the destination does not have to be decided when the journey begins!
The phone has once again informed me of a 2-hour delay. So I feel compelled to bring this to a conclusion and retrace my steps of yesterday.
Until I return.....
Missy