what we have here is a failure to communicate

It is hard to believe that two weeks ago there was over two feet of snow on the ground, and I had just returned from the most intense hike of the winter so far – that epic struggle in the woods of Ducktrap, ME.

Now there is hardly any snow to speak of – moldering piles in parking lots don’t count for much. Having caught my winter cold on the first of March, I haven’t been out into the woods here on MDI to investigate which patches of snow are holding out, hiding beneath the thick branches of pine trees or curled on the shadowy side of pink granite boulders.

It was over 40 degrees when I left work last night, and if there had been a dry place to sit down I would have done so, and spent some time sucking in fresh almost spring-like air. The tail end of a horrid day of wind and rain hadn’t left a single outdoor surface un-drenched however.

Today it is blindingly sunny, but the ground is frozen again. I wouldn’t mind if it snowed some more, but I realize that most of the rest of my fellow Maine residents would bitch and complain incessantly if this happens. That, more than anything else, makes me look forward to warm weather.

Not that it matters what the weather does for the foreseeable future. I will be stuck inside for the most part, working as much as I can stand in an effort to pay off my taxes. Blast and botheration.

I’ve spent the last three days at Our New England Country Store, breathing in excessive amounts of cardboard dust as I unpack all of this year’s new merchandise. I’m there alone, as the owner was called off unexpectedly to Texas, which has many advantages – one of which is being able to play whatever music I want over Pandora, the fabulous internet radio program. Rocking out while unwrapping ridiculous “country” nick-knacks? There are worse jobs to have.

And then I spend a few hours in the evening selling tickets and popcorn to a few movie goers, slipping into the back of foreign films, and having “reading parties” with my coworkers.

I love the balance of work and entertainment, and even though I have to work more and play less these days, I can’t be bothered to complain much. I would definitely like to lose the sniffles and nagging cough, but aside from that life is fine and dandy.

The horn at the firehouse is blasting the noon-hour honk. I’m off to work the senior matinee at Reel Pizza Cinerama. I may watch Last Chance Harvey with them, but if by the mid-way intermission it doesn’t catch my fancy, there’s always 10 more pages of Proust to read. 🙂