I’m terrible at Christmas cards. Every year, I receive them, and promise that the next year, I’ll spend a day getting them written and addressed in return, but I never get as many out as I could – or send none out at all. This year, I gave exactly one Christmas card, and that’s because no postage was required for\it. It was the one I dropped in my landlord’s office, along with the January rent.
I occasionally get ambitious ideas, and think about sending out one of those Christmas letters, going over my year in review. Of course, that’s just like a blog post that you print out on special paper and send to your extended family, and before I left home, I couldn’t print anything out because my printer refused to print, even in black and white, unless I bought more magenta ink. And that is a ridiculous demand when I just want to print in black and white. So we’re at an impasse, ol’ printy and I, and I’ll reconsider when I return.
Meanwhile, my job is to entertain Miss Liberty. She’s been kind of full of P and V since I got to the lakehouse, and yesterday she 1) Ate cat poop 2) Pulled a flaming box out of a fire my dad had going outside and ran around the yard with it and 3) Vomited up cat poop. In an effort to prevent this disgusting cycle from recurring, Mom has erected a wall of things that two fat cats can get over, but Liberty cannot. This does not prevent her from trying, however. Plus, while Hermes has no interest in golden retrievers, Girl Friday is exultant that she has someone new to push around. She hunts Libby down, growling at her until Libby starts barking and jumping and chasing after her, only to swipe her little black paw at her with a spit. Friday also took to hiding in a box, waiting for Libby to pass, and then jumping out at her
We went for a long walk to the campground The roads are unplowed, of course, because the campground is closed, so we had to tromp through drifts at some places. At one point, along the trail between the two lake roads, I paused to take in the silence. I mean, silent silence. There was no sound but my breathing, Libby’s panting, and the jangle of her collar. I’m so used to so much ambient noise –traffic near my apartment, the various bumps and voices of my neighbors, the sound of snow plows and shovels and sirens – that it was a rare thing to be in a place of such undisturbed peace.
We tramped the rest of the way to the campground and back – three miles in the snow, all told. The pictures I took and shared on Instagram will have to be my Christmas card this year.