Ice, Isaac, and Ulysses

Ice. Icing. Cold. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we have ice. The freeze line was just south and east of us, so we had ice. Schools closed. No work for many. Ice.

Since we've no place to go, let's decorate! The tree has been in the house since Saturday; 'bout time we got things going. Now it's all decorated and looks lovely. Lights in the windows, and on the porch. Moravian Star hanging on the porch. Tradition.

Late this afternoon, the roads did melt enough to be able to venture out. My youngest daughter (age 14) and I ventured out to the grocery store and for some shopping. The trees appear to have been dipped in glass. Overcast skies, fog hugging the ground and sliding down the hillsides (we are in the mountains) and the trees seem to have some strange lightsource of their own. Beautiful, but in a strange kind of way. Haunting. Eerie.

And, since the weather has been bad, only about one third of all creation was out shopping instead of the 90% expected. Chores achieved in record time. Yes!

There is a bittersweet feeling for me in all this, particularly since this year I am less depressed than most years. Next year will be quite different, I think, I fear, I hope.

Coming out will be (is) a major change. I think of that line from Tennyson "Though much is taken, much abides." Giving up. I feel like Abraham sacrificing Isaac. "Take your family, your only family, and go to the place that I will show you . . . " Will there be a ram caught in the thicket?

And yet I know much abides, too. It is not all loss, nor shall it be. But still, from this perspective, it is odd. I yearn for some new freedom. And yet this is not so bad a place or situation, is it?

Still, like Abraham, I feel that what I am in the midst of doing is the faithful thing to do. Truth. Truth sets free. Honesty is the thing that will save me.

The glass like trees crack and break. The ice melts. the light fades.

Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.