Cold weather-- the silent character in New England literature and in my home...

Well, the loose ends that gave me interrupted sleep are still loose, but my sleep was less chaotic, so that's something. 

It's cold. I mean, actually cold, not just chilly or inconvenient. Nine degrees. And there's snow in the forecast, but I think it'll mostly miss us, which is fine by me. Yesterday had lingering flakes all day, and the weather pundits are saying cold and rainy tomorrow (boo, that is miserable). Living in New England, the weather is an ever-present figure in any story.

And this is true for most, if not all, New England literature. It's not just setting; it is also the entity against which the characters in the story must contend, over and over again. Or it dictates the food, the clothing, the activities like a silent cruise director. In short, the weather is not just a passing mention, it is a full-on presence. 

It's surely a presence in my life right now; it's slipping through cracks and rushing through quickly opened-and-shut doors. It sits in a corner of my classroom, ready to chill my hands at the computer keys. It hunkers down in the passenger seat of my car-- and I am very grateful for those seat-heaters. 

Have a good day, and keep warm,

C