Ice World

The feast was over. The fires were dying down. The people went back into their homes, closing the doors to be safe against the Wild Ones. The hunt had been good and they had meat to feed them for a while, until the next day. They would sleep and wake and nibble, but not open the doors until the sun came again. The homes were underground, dug into the ice, and connected with each other with doors. Going out in the dark was forbidden with good reason. Anyone who didn't come in before Closing was lost, never seen again. There were no remains found. If you wanted to scare yourself, you could huddle close to the door and listen. You would hear them snuffling, although you did not see them. Once she had heard a cry, like someone being taken, but no one was missing the next Day. It wasn't warm in the Burrow, not like sitting in the sun in mid-Day, but the fur kept them comfortable. They slept on piiles of skins and wrapped themselves in the fur of the Others. They ate the Other's meat to keep them alive. And they chewed on ice when they were thirsty. They talked about where they would go for the next hunt and remembered old hunts. They played games with bits of bone. When it was Day, they hunted the Others with sharpened pieces of their bones, and made ropes from their sinews for dragging them back to the Circle. Without the Others, there would be no life. The Others ate things that lived with them in the water, but the People never ate them. When the hunt was small, it was talked of, but the Eldest warned against it. If we are worthy and penitent, the hunt will be good again. We must make the music. The flutes were made of bone and the drums of skins stretched over bone. Every feast yielded one new drum-bone and the most worthy would receive it to make it their own. The only other way to get a drum was the death of a Drummer. Each Day began with the festival of death. Any who had died during the night would be laid out and mourned before the Hunt began. Sometimes there are no bodies to mourn, but the ritual is performed anyway. The Eldest leads the hunters on the path to the water. I have never been, of course, being underage by 20 days. It is not known yet whether I will be a hunter, or a drummer, or a birther, or a digger. In 20 days, 10 of us will be designated. I think I would be well-suited for digging, but there are fewer of us now, so less need for digging. Birthing is most needed, but that future does not call to me. Perhaps I will be a drumemr and one Day become the Eldest. When the hunters come back, all the drummers play the dragging song and we rush toward the weary hunters to take our turn pulling. This is how we become strong and helps determine our designation.

In the future

People will wear an outer layer when they go outside that protects against sun, pollutants, skin irritants and contact poisons. An inner layer that is comfortable and skimpy. Outer is uniform to not draw attention. Inner can be very personal but only vetted friends will see it. Temperature inside is constant. cooler at night. Lighting also uniform, ubiquitous. No windows. Meredith and her Mom were playing hide and seek, like they often did. Except this was not the time or place, as her mother said, calling to her. The city was dangerous, with strange people and places. Meredith was 4 and did not have a good sense of timing. Or maybe she did. Maybe she knew her Mom was worried and wanted to cheer her up. She always seemed to enjoy playing hide and seek. But now her Mom didn't seem to be able to find her. She was calling her, but her voice was getting farther and farther away. Meredith jumped out of her hiding place and ran to where she had seen her last. Mom, she yelled. Mommy! She ran down a street, looking everywhere and turned a corner. Now she was really lost and she began to cry. "I just wanted to play. I just wanted you to make you happy." Today, her Mom had seemed unhappy and they had gone for their walk in a different direction. Usually they went to the corner and got some coffee for Mom and a treat for Meredith. Then they would see what there was at the grocery store. Some days they didn't buy anything, but usually there was something Mom needed: flour to make muffins or something for Meredith to drink. Mom said there was a time when people just turned the faucet and drank what came out. But you couldn't do that now. A man was walking down the street toward her. She looked at him carefully. He looked nice, with a blue shirt and nice pants and shiny shoes. She got up and ran to him. "I lost my Mommy," she said. "Can you help me?" "I don't know." he said. "I"ll try." The man was a government agent, he was not someone used to helping children, but he was not a bad person. First, he called the police and reported the situation. "What's your Mommy's name?" he asked Meredith. "Susan," she said, but I call her Mommy." Do you know where you live? In a tall house with an elevator. On the eighth floor, number 801. Near the market. OK, he said, let's see if we can find your house." They could see a tall building a few blocks away and headed toward it. "Not this way," said Meredith. She seemed very sure. "Did you and Mommy walk here?" he asked. In the end, he left her with the police. He had to be at a meeting at 1 and he couldn't take her with him. She was very tired and hungry and he really didn't know anything about little girls. After his meeting, he went to the police station and asked, "where is Meredith? Did you find her mom?" The person who had been working when he dropped her off was not there and no one else seemed to know anything about her. She was not in the computer. There were no young girls named Meredith in the city records. Over the next few days, when he could, he checked out tall buildings, with apartments number 801. None of them were missing a little girl. Of course, there was not always someone home to answer his question. After about 10 days, he went back to some of the places he had gotten no answer. He found a man who said he had just moved in. There could have been a little girl living here before, he said, but I don't know. When Charles asked the manager, he said, "I can't give out information like that." Hmmm. That made Charles wonder. If there hadn't been someone there before, he could probably have just said no. He waited outside and talked to people who came out of the building. "I don't know," they would say, or "maybe so." Finally, he did talk to a woman who said, "Meredith?" she lived on my floor. She and her mothere went everywhere together. And now they're just not there. Do you know anything about them?" "I met Meredith the end of last month on Delaney Street. She was lost. I took her to the police station, but when I went back, they acted like they didn't know what I was talking about." He got the mother's name from the neighbor. She asked him to let her know what he found out and gave him her name and number. He looked for information about Susan, but found little. There was nothing about a partner or a daughter. She had worked in a shoe store for many years. He went to the store and asked about her, but the people there didn't know much. She had stopped coming to work about the time Charles had found Meredith. She was a good worker, but not very talkative. They didn't know much, although she sometimes mentioned her daughter, buying shoes for her once. The shoes had a built-in tracker, like parents sometimes bought for their kids. It didn't seem like that was important to Susan, she had picked them out because they were on sale and she thought her child would like them. They had rainbows on the side, but otherwise looked ordinary. "Can I activate the tracker?" Not really. The Mom would have the code to set it up on her phone. They didn't make the shoes any more, because some unscrupulous people had gotten access to all the codes. It was a long shot, but Charles wondered if some of the unscrupulous people he knew would be able to tap into that information. Did he want to owe Johnny a favor? Not really, but he felt a strong pull to find Meredith. He hoped she was ok and safe with her Mom...but where could they be? Meredith had said her Mom seemed worried that morning. He went back to the street where he had found her. Where had they been heading? Was she looking for a new place to live? Meredith's clothes were not a clue. He thought, the shoes. she was wearing the shoes with the tracker. Now he would have to call Johnny. Johnny knew a guy...he had to promise not to turn him in before he could get access to the system. When hea talked about Meredith to the men, it was clear that he was worried about her. "What's she to you?" they asked. "Why do you care?" "I don't know," he said. "I just want to make sure she's okay. It's odd how she disappeared.' "It would take you a while to check out all these shoes," the man told him. "But you can eliminate some of them. All these are in the same place--waiting to be incinerated." "There's about 50 pairs still active in different parts of the city. And we only know the building, not which apartment." He went to three buildings that day and tried to find out if there were any little girls living there. Then he realized Meredith could have easily passed for a boy, so he went back and tried again. If she was hiding, though, maybe he shouldn't try to find her. Maybe it would be dangerous for her--or him. As he approached the fourth building, he recognized a car parked on the street, a greenish sedan that he had seen before. Someone else was trying to find her--but why? What secrets could a four-year-old girl hold?

I'm cold, Mommy. I know, honey, I'm so sorry. Come sit on my lap and we'll both wrap up in this blanket. We tried to turn off our lights and not drive too much, but it wasn't enough. Now there's no energy left to heat the house. We burned all the wooden furniture in the fireplace and now there's nothing left to burn. Even my grandfather's favorite chair. They'll turn the power on in a little while and we'll warm up the room as much as we can until the hour's up. It will be really nice then. And I'll cook our dinner in the oven and that will keep the kitchen warm. Most people really liked driving big cars and they used a lot of gas.

St. Patrick's Day 2023

Weeds in the lawn? Or something to encourage? Brushing my teeth, I wondered how many tubes of toothpaste have I bought? How many loads of laundry? So many ways to measure time. How many times have I washed my hair? How many different kinds of shampoo have I bought? How much more good can I do in the world? How many of these pills have I taken? Have they kept me alive? Or just made pharmaceutical companies richer? I know pills have kept my dog alive. He can't stand up without anti-inflammatory meds, one a day.

She woke up, it was still dark out. Right. The time change. It was almost 7, but still dark. She hadn't slept well and had moved from her bed to this smaller bed in the guest room. She had been reading on her phone. Oh yes, the new book about the "lady cop" from Hackensack. For some reason, this series about a pioneering woman deputy sheriff in the early 20th century had a calming effect. This latest one was more about Constance's relationship with her sisters and the nation's slide toward participating in the war against Germany. The Kopp family had been from Germany a few generations back, but hopefully they won't suffer from hate. She picked up the iPhone and continued reading. It was cozy under the comforter. Let the heat do its workk and the sun come up. A few minutes later, she was awake enough to get up and shuffle to the bathroom. She was old and didn't jump out of bed quite as easily as she had when she was younger. Always a morning person, eager to see what the day would bring. Now she knew pretty much what would happen, nothing much. In a way, she was grateful not to have anything to worry about; no surprises, nowhere she had to be. At the same time, nothing to anticipate joyously. She carefully inserted the contact lenses that allowed her to see things in focus, one of the technological, scientific and medical advances for which she was grateful. Although she had a pair of glasses she wore when she wasn't wearing the contacts, she didn't see much detail with them and took them off to read in bed. As she woke up more, she walked more easily into the front of the house, where the dog curled up on the rug. She was even older, at least in dog years, and scarcely glanced at her mistress, enough to show Alice she was still alive. That was something to worry about, one of these days she would have to arrange to deal with the dog's body. She couldn't pick him up and transport him to be cremated. And she certainly couldn't bury him in the backyard, as her husband had done with two previous dogs at a previous house. She smiled to herself as she prepared her tea for the morning. Today she would have one scoop of Irish Breakfast and one scoop of chai--half as muh caffeine but with the flavor she enjoyed. She put the tea caddy in the carafe. It was probably fifty years old and had come from a consignment shop, originally meant, no doubt, to serve coffee. When the water in the kettle on the stove boiled, she poured it into the carafe to steep. Meanwhile, she got out her favorite mug (there were two the same, so she always had at least one to pick off the shelf) and put a little sugar in the bottom. The sugar was in a tall ceramic cannister, with a long-handled ceramic spoon. It was not very practical, but gave her pleasure. One of these days, the spoon might break and then she would use a scoop--generally easier, but not as pleasurable. Then she found the bread, wrapped in a plastic bag from a commercial loaf she had bought last time she ran out of homoe-made bread. She pulled the cutting board from its spot on the counter, a nice oval of wood with a hole for a handle. She put the rest of the loaf on the board and got the long serrated knife out of the drawer (why does a bread knife have those sharp points on the end? to pull the toast out of the toaster?). She really enjoyed having the right tools to do something--not too many, just enough. She sliced the bread. As it was nearing the end of the loaf, it was getting staler and harder to slice, but she managed. One slice of whole wheat bread, made by her own hand, in the toaster. One of these days, she might get a better toaster. This one was not very pretty and often made the breasd too dark. It, too, had come from a consignment shop and still had the word toaster written on the side in permanent marker. She had tried to get it off. When the toast was done, she applied salted butter from the butter dish and took a bite. The first bite was the best. When the tea seemed the right color and it had been long enough, she poured it into the cup, got a spoon out and stirred it around to distribute the sugar. Yes, that was what she needed, a sip of tea and a bite of toast to start her day. It was the simple, predictable things about her life that made her happy. What to do first? She put away the clean dishes. She mused about what it would have been like 100 years ago or so, to have a maid or a faithful butler--or a whole staff to look after her. She would have had even less to do with her days. Help getting dressed, help dealing with minor challenges like dog bodies. Someone to drive her places--where would she go? To the dress shop, to have a new gown made? To call on her friends at their houses? Or, maybe she would have been the maid, scrubbing floors until she couldn't get down on her knees any more and then what? The sun was starting to come in, one of the things she loved about her winter house. It seemed that there were more sunny days here. Even when it was cold in the morning (today it was 30, according to the weather app), it would most likely be quite pleasant by afternoon, when she would take the dog out for a walk to the end of the dead-end street. Their little neighborhood was pleasant, although she would rather not have her neighbors quite so close. The people on one side had several pickup trucks parked in the yard and their drive was very close to the house on one side. When they got in or out of the trucks, the slamming door seemed very loud. The dog would bark sometimes. She dreamed of more space. Early in the day like this, it was quiet except for birdsong. But as you walked to the end of the street, you could hear cars going by on the highway, a constant roar. There was a big brick wall behind the houses on that side of the cross street, Sovereign, but it must have always been noisy to live there. She had a sort of filter that blocked it out most of the time, but sometimes she wished the street were open the other way, so she could walk away from the noise. In that direction was Ellerbe Creek. There were squirrels and other critters that plagued the vegetables and herbs she was trying to grow that probably lived along the creek bank. Yesterday had been a tutoring day. She had registered with the volunteer organizaion when she arrived a few months earlier and expressed interest in this assignment. She met with Mariela twice a week. Yesterday she found out the girl would be 11 soon. She seemed bright and lively, enjoyiing their time together and doing her work willingly and easily. She really didn't know why she needed a tutor, but suspected it had more to do with the fact that her mother spoke Spanish to her most of the time. Alice knew some Spanish and was able to converse with Clara, but her communication with the student was in English. She let her pick out books to read to her and she seemed to enjoy them, especially silly stories. She had no trouble reading, but almost read too fast, not always understanding the words. Alice stopped and asked her questions from time to time, trying to get her to think about what she was reading. She had also spent time at the shop, working on her sewing projects. She had hemmed a red cape she was working on. The fabric was Brussels washer, accoring to the women in the shop. It amused her to know that, but she didn't really know what it meant. She supposed it originally was from Belgium? Thanks to the internet, she can find out. It is a specific line of fabric from a specific brand and is made of linen and rayon. So... The cape had a flowery lining.

Photos

I used to have control over photos I published, so I could rearranget them and add captions, but now they just show up as hypertext until they are published and I can't change anything about them. I can't even delete them, because I don't know which one I'm deleting. So, here are some scenes from my recent life. I rediscovered the joys of hanging up laundry on a sunny windy day in early spring (OK, literally late winter). It reminds me of my mother, who never had a dryer and always dried things on the clothesline, in cold and snowy weather. She was frugal, my Mom, and used one clothespin for two items when she could, leaving cold damp corners on the underwear sometimes, where the clothespins had been. I can afford to use as many as I want. And I can use the dryer if it seems like a better idea. It is a pleasure to be outside, listening to the birds and feeling the sun and smelling the dirt. We bought a bedside table with a drawer and a shelf, so there is room for stuff I want to keep handy, and I'm less likely to knock my glasses on the floor during the night. We have a double, or full-sized, bed, not a Queen here. Generally I like it and it's not a problem, but sometimes I am closer to the edge than I would like, or I don't feel I can toss and turn without bothering my partner, so I move to the twin bed in the guest room. Or, if Ray gets up before I do, I might stay in bed, even though I'm awake, and enjoy having it all to myself! I made asparagus quiche--it was delicious. Today is pie day and I have already mixed up the crust to make an apple pie, but I need to go buy the apples. I have tutored a little girl twice and will continue to meet with her at the library at 4:30 twice a week. It is not my favorite time, but that is what works best for them. The first time, she had homework. I watched her do it and she asked me if it was right and I said yes. I asked her questions about it. Yesterday, she had no homework. Her mother asked me to help her with reading comprehension. They speek Spanish at home. The child is fluent in English and I had her read to me. She reads quite well and quickly, so she is not always stopping to ask herself what it means. Of course, there are expressions she does not know, like, "What's in it for you?" It's fun, I'm not sure I'm helping much at this point, but we'll see. I'm sure it's good for her to have more people who care about her schooling. Her mom is clearly very invested in her doing well. We went to a great restaurant for Ray's birthday (also International Women's Day). It was one Amelia and Kevin hadn't been to before either. I ordered ribeye with mushrooms, and it was delicious. There was so much, I ate it for lunch two or three times as well. Everything was delicious. I had a maple-flavored Old Fashioned before dinner. Yum. We are always on the lookout for nice places we can eat outside. The seating can't be picnic tables (some are), but comfortable chairs. In this case, they also had heaters, so we were quite comfortable. I did feel bad for the waitress, although she was very pleasant. One of the photos shows the red cape I am making, so I can wear it to protests, as a Handmaid. It does look more like red riding hood, though. I like working on sewing projects in Amelia's classroom. I only go when nothing else is scheduled. For a break, I might sit in the rocking chair and knit, or walk around and imagine what I will make next. I have some t-shirts my Dad got rid of that I plan to make into a quilt for him. Not that he will really appreciate it, but it might be a conversation starter if he has visitors. It is cold here today and the heat is working hard, but it is much colder in Massachusetts, with wind and snow predicted. One of my children is on her way to Mexico for a few days. She left earlier than planned, to miss the storm, and I know she will be glad to be away. There was a real dry spell for housing inventory, but there are some that I would buy available now. M has been visiting them for me, and calling me on Face Time, so I can see them with her. The published photos are good, but I really appreciate having someone there to ask questions and get a feel for the house and the neighborhood. How do you compare two good options? One is closer to Molli, the other has the all-on-one-floor plan that I want, but only one bathroom. It does have a basement with the potential for expansion, though, and a nice big yard, with an undeveloped area behind the back yard, so it feels less "in-town" than it is. Apparently, I can no longer write in paragraphs either.

Patty's house

When I was about 8 I remember meeting Patty. She was my Mom's friend, well really, she was my Mom's friend's Mom. My grandma lived in Florida, so she was a little like a local Gra'ma. She lived in a really small house with her husband, Ray, and her dog, Cameron. Ray liked to talk about dinosaurs with me. Well, really, he liked to talk about anything with anybody! He would tell silly jokes and laugh at them himself, even if no one else laughed. I used to laugh because he was so happy, even if I didn't think the joke was that funny. Cameron was kind of a grumpy old dog. He would bark like anything when I got there, but after that, he would mostly settle down and sleep. If we went outside, he usually came with us. He didn't seem to have any interest or desire in running away. And he didn't go very fast, anyway. I guess he knew where his food was coming from. Patty liked to cook, but mostly she made wierd things I didn't like, but she would always let me eat bread if I wanted. Baguette was my favorite. This time, when we went to her house, I remember, it was on our way home from church. Patty and Ray sang in the choir sometimes, but they didn't usually go to churh if they weren't singing. It was still the pandemic and everybody was wearing masks. I think they wanted to keep safe. Ray maybe had something wrong with him that made it more dangerous for him to be around people. They didn't wear masks around us, though, so that was more fun. It's hard to eat with a mask on! She sings bits of songs or hums quietly from time to time. Today, she is wearing all purple, her favorite color. Purple velvet pants! A purple shirt with a big spot on it (maybe from cooking?). Aner her favorite sweter witha. little purple stripe in it. The sleeves are too long cause she knit it herself It even has a hood! Her socks have purple stripes too. Amelia made those for her. Amelia is her daughter and my godmother. She knew my mother before I was even born. Amelia has the cutest most fun store. It's called Freeman's Creative and sells yarn and cloth and tons of other stuff--even stuff for kids like paints and clay and little notebooks. She doesn't mind if kids come in with their parents--or even dogs! There's usually someone working on something, sitting in the rocking chair knitting or sewing in the classroom in the back. There are classes to make things--it's more fun than school, cause you end up with something you made yourself--and you go cause you want to! There are six tables and chairs and a space for the teacher up front, with a camera and a computer, so she can show you how to do stuff. My favorite thing I made is a zipper pouch to keep my favorite things in. things like chapstick and tissues, but even my favorite eraser shaped like a bunny. But Pattys house had one room that just had 2 beds in it, with a little table in the middle. My mom and I could lie on one of the beds and she could tickle me. There was a big closet, too, that I could hide in. There was Patty and Ray's bedroom, with a big bed and 2 little tables and a dresser. It had a big closet just like the other one, and a tiny bathroom, with just a toilet and sink. In the hall, there was a real bathroom, with a tub, too. Across from that was the computer room. There was a couch that could unfold to a bed and a little desk with a computer on it. There was a little table by the couch and another giant closet, but it was full of empty boxes and you coudn't hide in there. Patty and Ray's closet had clothes so there wasn't much room, but I could fit in with them. The computer room had hooks behind the door where you could hang a jacket or bag.