I'm upstate, visiting the folks at the farm.
On Saturday it snowed. I started the day in the library, reading poetry prayers from various cultures, sipping tea and discussing the circus of politics with my parents. Then I went outside to play in the snow, by which I mean split wood. The snow really picked up around then, and it was those perfect-sized thick snowflakes accompanying us while my father and I used a wood-splitter to stock up on firewood for the winter. I also got to drive the tractor, which is always fun. The last time he let me do so, I got to pull down the old turkey coop after spending weeks pulling shingles off the roof with a crow bar.
Afterward, I drove through the snow to meet a great friend for dinner. Normally I would have taken the Buskirk Bridge, a beautiful red covered bridge that I would take every time I drove to see my best friend or my girlfriend in high school, but the Hoosick River was so high that it was closed. So I had to figure out how to take King Road to Owl Kill Road to route 22 to meet my friend at Benson's restaurant, where we used to hang out at the dairy bar as teenagers. My friend hopped in, and we drove to North Hoosick to eat at a local brew pub which has become my favorite local spot in the past few years. They have excellent beer and quality meat from local farms, with the perfect musical vibes in the background. If they're playing it over the sound system, it's usually Black Keys, Led Zeppelin, the White Stripes, Johnny Cash, or any bluesy rock music. Pink Floyd's "Money" was playing when we sat down. Other times I've been there and a live swing band was playing. My friend had never been there before, but while we dined and drank he saw three people he knew. We're not from the kind of place where everyone knows your name, but you'll usually see someone familiar.
Today was sunny, but much colder than the day before, with a 9 degree high. So of course my father and I split wood again. I drove the tractor, he loaded up the bed, then I split the wood and we tossed it on the pile. Just for good measure, when we were mostly done, I got to use a maul to split some logs the old-fashioned way.
I don't watch American football games very often anymore, but when I do, it's with my dad. In fact, even though my friend and I caught the end of both games on Saturday, I haven't watched more than 3/4 of a single game all season. So I was delighted to come inside, cook a healthy meal, make some tea, and sit in a warm living room with a fire roaring as we took in the Saints and the Vikings. I couldn't have imagined a better game.
When I played football for Cambridge (two years in middle school), I was #33. A few years ago, I happened to be watching a Vikings game and noticed a jersey with SANFORD and number 33 on the back. He doesn't play for them anymore, but he did spend a few years with the Saints, and the same number.
Sanford wasn't on either arbitrary collection of professional athletes tonight, so we didn't care who won. We just wanted a good game. It appeared the Vikings would dominate, but the Saints put together an impressive comeback, taking the lead 21-20 with just three minutes to go. Then the Vikings came back with a field goal to make it 23-21, and only a couple minutes left. But the Saints marched down the field and kicked their own field goal to make it 24-23. The Vikings had a better record, 13-3, so it looked like an upset was on the way.
Minnesota had a chance to come back with under a minute to go, but it was looking really unlikely after three straight incompletions. Then, on 4th and 10, their quarterback threw up something akin to a Hail Mary, which somehow landed in the hands of Diggs, #14, who raced all the way to the end zone for a 61 yard touchdown, with his teammate, Wright, #17, celebrating behind him.
I kind of want to leave it at that, but I also have a soft spot for the Eagles, so I'd like to see either one in the Super Bowl. Then again, if those cheaters from New England are in the championship, I'd rather be outside in single digits chopping wood! That, or stargazing, which was the perfect cap.
1 degree means clearer stars
On Saturday it snowed. I started the day in the library, reading poetry prayers from various cultures, sipping tea and discussing the circus of politics with my parents. Then I went outside to play in the snow, by which I mean split wood. The snow really picked up around then, and it was those perfect-sized thick snowflakes accompanying us while my father and I used a wood-splitter to stock up on firewood for the winter. I also got to drive the tractor, which is always fun. The last time he let me do so, I got to pull down the old turkey coop after spending weeks pulling shingles off the roof with a crow bar.
Afterward, I drove through the snow to meet a great friend for dinner. Normally I would have taken the Buskirk Bridge, a beautiful red covered bridge that I would take every time I drove to see my best friend or my girlfriend in high school, but the Hoosick River was so high that it was closed. So I had to figure out how to take King Road to Owl Kill Road to route 22 to meet my friend at Benson's restaurant, where we used to hang out at the dairy bar as teenagers. My friend hopped in, and we drove to North Hoosick to eat at a local brew pub which has become my favorite local spot in the past few years. They have excellent beer and quality meat from local farms, with the perfect musical vibes in the background. If they're playing it over the sound system, it's usually Black Keys, Led Zeppelin, the White Stripes, Johnny Cash, or any bluesy rock music. Pink Floyd's "Money" was playing when we sat down. Other times I've been there and a live swing band was playing. My friend had never been there before, but while we dined and drank he saw three people he knew. We're not from the kind of place where everyone knows your name, but you'll usually see someone familiar.
Today was sunny, but much colder than the day before, with a 9 degree high. So of course my father and I split wood again. I drove the tractor, he loaded up the bed, then I split the wood and we tossed it on the pile. Just for good measure, when we were mostly done, I got to use a maul to split some logs the old-fashioned way.
I don't watch American football games very often anymore, but when I do, it's with my dad. In fact, even though my friend and I caught the end of both games on Saturday, I haven't watched more than 3/4 of a single game all season. So I was delighted to come inside, cook a healthy meal, make some tea, and sit in a warm living room with a fire roaring as we took in the Saints and the Vikings. I couldn't have imagined a better game.
When I played football for Cambridge (two years in middle school), I was #33. A few years ago, I happened to be watching a Vikings game and noticed a jersey with SANFORD and number 33 on the back. He doesn't play for them anymore, but he did spend a few years with the Saints, and the same number.
Sanford wasn't on either arbitrary collection of professional athletes tonight, so we didn't care who won. We just wanted a good game. It appeared the Vikings would dominate, but the Saints put together an impressive comeback, taking the lead 21-20 with just three minutes to go. Then the Vikings came back with a field goal to make it 23-21, and only a couple minutes left. But the Saints marched down the field and kicked their own field goal to make it 24-23. The Vikings had a better record, 13-3, so it looked like an upset was on the way.
Minnesota had a chance to come back with under a minute to go, but it was looking really unlikely after three straight incompletions. Then, on 4th and 10, their quarterback threw up something akin to a Hail Mary, which somehow landed in the hands of Diggs, #14, who raced all the way to the end zone for a 61 yard touchdown, with his teammate, Wright, #17, celebrating behind him.
I kind of want to leave it at that, but I also have a soft spot for the Eagles, so I'd like to see either one in the Super Bowl. Then again, if those cheaters from New England are in the championship, I'd rather be outside in single digits chopping wood! That, or stargazing, which was the perfect cap.
1 degree means clearer stars
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