Thursday, March 22, 2007

'Tis the Last Ice of Winter: Woe is Moi




Ice. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love your fat hills that caress my belly. I love that you capture the rays of the sun and still remain cold. I love your slow stubborn melt, your refusal to heed the calendar, your independent recalcitrance; I love that you return each winter after the summer sun’s smug assurance that it’s had the better of you. And even though you’ll soon disappear from the grass, I know you’ll return in the form of ice cubes from the freezer, in the steady exhalation of the air conditioner, and in that mango-strawberry smoothie Joan likes to sip so much. And, next winter, I’ll again slip and slide into your slick embrace. There. That’s how much I love thee.

Now, Shane. Forget it. Shane is the opposite of me. Shane just wants to be near Joan. He doesn’t care about ice or heat or indoors or outdoors. See him in the picture? Instead of perching on the last mounds of ice on this beautiful sunny day, he chooses to pant at the back door and beg for a spot at Joan’s side.

And you think a dog with a blog is strange? He’s far stranger than I.

Best wishes, Juno

1 comment:

Wimsey said...

Ah, snow and ice. Cold weather is the best! You are so right. I so wished for more snow this year to roll in and play in and drag my human around. Maybe next year!

Wimsey