Hey, It's Snowing Again

Yeah, we're supposed to get a few inches of the white stuff overnight.  I'm just glad that the storm shifted enough so that the 6"-10" they talked about yesterday isn't coming here.  Someone else can have that much, I'll take just a little.

For the second day in a row there are no tracks in the snow.  No squirrels, no birds.  I have no idea why or how I have offended the local wildlife but it seems that I have.  I had hopes that snow cover would bring back the fauna but not so far.  This lineup of Mourning Doves was on the fence this morning but they didn't come down to the feeders.  I don't get it.  *shrugs*

I added a few rounds to the latest Cast Sock this afternoon but my left thumb started to pain me and then my right shoulder complained so I quit.

29 December--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview.

The water felt like a caress as it rose over my sweaty form.  It had been a long day with a lot of nail pulling and I must have sat hunched over the sewing machine for hours.  It was heavenly to stretch out and dive under the small waves that lapped at my thighs.  I felt like I left a slick of dust and sweat on top of the water as I submerged.  Iggy was right beside me, his arms pulling himself through the water.  I spiraled down to the white sandy bottom and ran my fingers through the powdery stuff.  Small silver fish darted toward me and then away when I shifted toward the surface for a breath. 

Iggy’s head popped up beside mine.  “You can hold your breath a long time,” he said. 

“It’s because I’m a girl,” I told him. “I learned that females breathe more efficiently when we had a carbon monoxide leak in our furnace one Thanksgiving.  Marie and I weren’t nearly as affected by the gas as Jim and Will were.  Not that we weren’t all in danger but she and I handled it better.”

His liquid brown eyes looked into mine.  “I am glad that you did not die from the poison gas.”

“Me too,” I said, “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.” 

He floated closer, pulled my head to him and gently kissed my lips.  “I have missed you, Rose.  Can we please go back to the way it was before?” 

I looked back at him. “As long as you remember who you take to the jump-up next time.” Then I put a hand on top of his head and shoved him underwater. 

He came up sputtering and lunged for me.  I tried to swim away but he caught me and held me tight.  “I was not ready for a dunking,” he said. “Now it is your turn.” He tugged me underwater but kept his hand on my hip.

I came up laughing.  “I’ve missed laughing with you, Iggy.” 

He touched my face with his finger, running it across my lips and making me shiver.  “I have missed you too, Mrs. Rose.” His lips met mine and we sank under the surface of the sea.  That time we both came up sputtering and laughing.  “I think it is time for us to be on dry land,” Iggy said. 

“Agreed,” I said, and we swam side by side to the sandy shore. 

“That was nice,” Iggy said. 

I nodded. “It was.”

Neither of us said anything for a minute or two.

Iggy cleared his throat and said, “Well, I guess I will go change at Johnno’s.  You would not want a drink after you change, would you?”

 I heard the longing in his voice; it pulled at the longing in me.  “I could have a drink,” I said.

He let his breath out and said, “Good.  See you in ten minutes?” 

I picked up my towel.  “Better make it fifteen.”

He draped his towel around his neck and walked down the beach to his brother’s bar.  I picked up my sandals, walked around the Seaview, and took the road to Sydans.  I was glad to have such a nice place so nearby to call home while the B&B was getting refurbished.  It would have been much more difficult to have to drive to a place in another town morning and evening. Even luckier was the owner of Sydans having an electrician for a brother.  I washed my face and combed my wet hair.  I didn’t want to appear too eager or imply that this was a real date.  It was merely a drink.  Wasn’t it?

Iggy was halfway through a glass of something pink when I arrived. 

“What’s that?  It looks sweet.” 

He looked at his glass as if he were surprised to see it.  “Johnno’s planter’s punch.  He mixes up watermelon, pineapple, cherries, and soda with ice. It is refreshing. Have one?” 

I slid onto the stool next to his.  “It has rum in it?”

He chuckled.  “Of course.  That is the punch.” 

By then Johnno was standing across the bar from us.  “I’ll have one but with only half the rum.  You know I don’t have much of a head for spirits. I don’t want to get tipsy.”

 Johnno’s laugh rang out, making heads turn.  “Tipsy? Are you an old lady? Old church ladies who drink too much sherry get tipsy. Young vibrant women like you get friendly.”

“Hm. Well, I don’t want to get too friendly then.”

Johnno turned away to make my drink. “Too bad, Iggy, your plan has failed.”

Iggy put his hands over his face and just about fell off his stool.  “Johnno, you will be the death of me.” 

I pretended that I hadn’t heard.  I thought for a minute about how much I missed him being more than my electrician and plunged ahead, tucking my chin so I didn't have to look into his eyes in case he had given up on us.  "Billy brought me some spiny lobsters that I thought we could grill tonight.  What do you think?"  I peeped at him from under my lashes to see his lips curve into a smile.

            "I think that sounds fine."

Writing came easy again today.  That's all I have to say about that.  I made jello with fruit in it this afternoon and remembered to put in the right amount of water so it set this time.  I can't believe that I screwed up jello.  Still haven't made it to Goodwill to clear out the back of the car so my tossing is still on hiatus.

--Barbara