Throwback Thursday: The Sun

We've possibly escaped the snow for a couple of days. Nearly did pray that it would go away but forgot in being busy with something else. It's not the snow, though, I think, that causes my true bitter grief through the winter, although, believe me, I really feel it is the devil's brew. I imagine myself, as I drive through the grey and brown sludge, like Judas, gnawing at my own cold flesh, frozen with despair in the lowest level of hell. And I haven't even read Dante. Imagine how I would feel if I did. Don't have time, thank goodness. No, it's not the snow. It's the slipping thin pale sun that shines just enough so that you can see it, but is so anemic and distant that you can't feel it. Most days of any sun in the winter I spend at least half an hour in the office, the one room where it comes right in at the window, shafts of pointed and sometimes warm light. I curl up to fit the sun, and then move with with it across the room. But it eludes me, it flees from me. I have to keep chasing it in sorrow and rage.

So anyway, when I was but a child, this is where I lived.

Here the sun burns hot all day long. You go out in the morning, for a bit, but as the giant sun soars up you retreat inside to the cool cracked cement floor, the shadow of refuge and quiet. You stay there waiting until late afternoon. Exhausted, then, around four o'clock, you fortify yourself with tea and consider the cooler evening. You might go out on a visit, you might take a walk, you will have to fill the lamps and hopefully know what's for dinner before darkness so quickly falls. I think if I went back to this very perfect house, after all these years of a distant sun, I would have a hard time going in in the heat of the day. I wouldn't want to let go. Except that also I've been weakened by this distant unloving sun and so I would probably become immediately exhausted and deyhydrated. I would retreat in and be unhappy either way. Sour grapes, is what I'm trying to say.

Anyway, no reason to fret about that today. Got to go make those pies.

Throwback Thursday: the Sun