One Long Snow Day Sentence

This has been a messed up week already, what with snow in Florida and Hedwig birds in the south, with the result that all senses are on high alert, and even when lying in bed in the dark velvet of night listening to outdoor furniture on the second floor deck as the incoming north wind slides it all around and worrying for the tiniest moment that I might have inadvertently checked into Stephen King’s Overlook Hotel, I dream instead in that twilight state where ideas are born of my pantry with its hilarious orange bags from on the top shelf full of Goji berries, organic Brazil nuts, roasted almonds, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds and Detox Mix, and the second shelf hypnotically pretty with dried blueberries, Bing cherries, Miller’s Bran, steel-cut oatmeal, golden raisins, pecans, and dried beans on display like nerdy girls dolled up like prom queens in wide mouth Mason jars whose lids are in full working order and come on and off nearly every day in such fluid, nourishing movements they bring to mind the wondrous ways of writers  who also have everything I need to thrive, from the all-purpose prayers of the Bird by Bird writer Annie Lamott (“I have two prayers: Help me! Help me! Help me! And Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!), to the smell of vanilla beans that blooms in my brain when I think of Diane Ackerman’s astonishing work, A Natural History of the Senses, and how every single time I head out on a road trip with my husband, I channel William Least Heat Moon and plead, “Not the interstate, oh, please, please, please let’s take the blue highways,” and when I think I have tasted or read it all, someone, sometimes in the virtual world which can be as real as rice pudding with cinnamon (and golden raisins and vanilla of course) introduces me to a writer new to my radar screen, not mind candy, but high fiber, chewy and yet delicious, like Lorrie Moore who wrote a collection of stories called Self-Help that I read way, way, way into the night last night, and the ineluctable pull of gratitude spins me into its orbit to love it all another day.

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