We got a couple inches of snow last night (of course, I wore clogs to knitting so my socks got all snowy but 3 young people were brushing the snow off all the cars when we left which was very nice) so I've got to clear off the driveway before I go to work today. Think anyone will come in today? Maybe somebody going on a trip, but I'll probably get to watch a video and knit. Sometimes I feel like I'm stealing when I sit there all day doing what I want but then I think that they have to have someone there just in case a customer comes and it might as well be me.
January 28--Augustus Saint-Gaudens, Victory. Vicki felt like there should have been more fanfare as she crossed the finish line. There were still people cheering, a few anyway, but most of them were race workers who were packing things away. They paused in their work to applaud as she stumbled across the finish line and one of them came over with a lukewarm bottle of water that he handed to her saying, "sorry it isn't colder." She nodded, not able to catch her breath to speak. She stood bent, her hands on her knees, and took in great lungsful of air. She was proud of herself for making it through the marathon but knew she had been the slowest. It had taken her two years to lose eighty pounds and train for the race. She had felt like a winner when she signed up but being last felt like failure somehow. She knew that in the morning when the bleak sight of the departing race staff had faded a bit she'd get a little perspective and feel better but right then it was hard. She lifted the water and drank deeply. As she lowered the bottle she heard footsteps behind her on the course. She turned to see a middle-aged man, red in the face and gasping, coming toward her. She started to clap and cheer. His head came up and his shoulders straightened. He ran across the finish line and stopped next to her. She picked up a bottle of water left by the departed staff and handed it to him. "Congratulations on finishing," she said, "I'm Vicki." "Neal," he said and clicked his water bottle against hers.
I was excited when that flowed out onto the pages last night. It was nearly effortless, a nice change from the usual tugging, pulling, and forcing I do to get words to come out. Time to shovel!