billowy blustery snow day. around 20 degrees all day and fine, drifty snow. too many cooks in the kitchen. that pot of soup sat on the stove for six hours (at least). plates and glasses and eating spoons and stirring spoons and crumbs and onion skins and milk rings and tea rings and juice rings all stacked and piled and jostling and clanging and chiming.throughout the day, andrea and i each left once to walk to the corner and put something in the mail. when michael came home the door flew open, he tramped through swirls and i swallowed that cold air like fists. it was welcome. i thought it was peaceful to keep to myself but i realize it's also crazy.
