Girl Scout Cookies & Snow

Five days before my car got hit, I crashed into another woman’s car.  No, really.  And the first thing she said to me, amidst all that dent and scratch was,

Funny.  I was just in an accident five days ago with the other side of my car. 

Who knew I’d be saying the same thing, five days later.

I crashed into that parked car on a beautiful Saturday; I crashed into that parked car at our troop’s Girl Scout Cookie pick up.  Read all about this embarrassing mama moment in this week’s article  Girl Scout Cookie Crash on Today’s Mama.

Five days later, at school’s drop off nonetheless, my parked car got crashed into.  Island blizzard’s fault; a friendly fender bender.  Seated sideways and then, the monster stepped on our car.  At least, that’s how Lucy tells it remembering the sound of things.  I was deep in conversation, turned towards the back seat and already unbuckled when it happened.  I got out of my car and said to the driver, 

Funny.  I was just in an accident five days ago with the other side of my car.  

Ironic, I say to this chain of ironic island events.  Ouch, I say to today’s quick movements but, really, I’m on the mend.  Lucky, I say to all of this car crashing because, really, things could always be so, so much worse.  This little snow-storm-automotive-love-tap sent my neck and back on a little hiatus.  I’m coming out of a few days of pill haze, all the while feeling lucky all three of my babes and all the children around us were safe.
After the dual fender benders, Olive decided to start walking.  First steps are milestones.  In a perfect world, milestones would happen when both parents, both grandparent sets and both sisters are around.  If it must be otherwise, be it around a mama-friend-best-friend who’s like family.  One who watched your belly grow and one who held this babe when she was hours old.  This friend of mine was with me when Olive decided to stand up and go.

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Sometimes we have to crash to know we’re safe and to know we’re well taken care of.

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Sometimes we don’t quite know the best way to start, but with practice we get the hang of it.

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Lucy took the walking trio pictures with my new, fancy camera.  I had no idea she knew how to turn it on, just like I had no idea she thought it’d be alright to play with.  I was across the room when Olive started running from the piano.  She just picked it up, button held down, shutter firing on continuous.  Not bad, Lucy, not bad.

Snow comes to the islands, seldom.

Hooray!  Snow came to the islands, steady and still.  Before big winds sent flakes whirling dizzily about, flakes stacked atop thin branches, atop cherry tree buds.

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Lucy told me,

I feel just like Rudolph.  Our big baby is just like Santa.  Mama, when is it going to be Christmas?  I’m really, really strong, you know.  Look, I’m the mama and I’m pulling my baby in the snow…

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Lucy giggled for so long it was both contagious and refreshing.  It’s exactly what I needed after two fender benders in five days.  I think the snow was confusing for her.  Beneath this snow fondant, there’s bulbs on our front lawn, blooms on our cherry tree.

I need to knit Olive a new hat.  I won a blue ribbon for this hat at the San Juan County Fair last summer. It’s been my favorite for so many outside play times.  The snug fit tells me it’s time.  Pattern searching; I’ll keep you posted.

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Back yard’s dirt/construction pile makes the best sister sledding hill.

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I found Squeekie in the island classifieds.  He’d been once loved, outgrown and abandoned in a barn.  So lucky, so giggly happy he’s found a home with us.

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Lucy came up with a game called, Who Can Stick Their Tongue Out With Snow on it the Longest.  It’s a really, really, really hard game to play because laughter is contagious.

I remember when I was eight, sneaking in backyard’s hallway of Oaks, Elms and Maples to the hallway of *nature popsicles* created by my neighbor’s roof.  My cat Tiger would keep me company, our backs resting against snow packed tree trunks as I devoured icicle after icicle.  Our bungalow doesn’t yet have gutters.  Perfect; we have a lot of icicles around our house.  Betty thought they were what unicorn horns are made of.  Maybe.  Maybe if we believe it to be so, I said.

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As I type, it’s 18 degrees outside.  Maybe once a year here it gets that cold.  That time is now.  Let’s just hope the wind doesn’t stir, turning iciles to chimes.

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