Living Alone

Nothing prepares you for the isolation of living alone. No one to call. On the other hand you don't have to make excuses, and you can let almost everything slide. I live in a pig sty, but no one can call me to task. It's my world, I choose one thing over another, take off the kid-gloves. Up early, to stoke the fire, bathrobe over full regalia, flip on the porch light and it's snowing hard, several inches already, on top of the eight inches still hanging around. Dawn lights a leaden sky. A good day for anemology, as the wind is made visible. Multiple phenomena. Drifting snow blown by strong winds, hard snow, and snow fog, visibility is 25 feet. A lull mid-day, then more snow. Feeling a bit house-bound, decided to walk about outside, bad idea, didn't make it to the head of the driveway before retreating home. Brutal weather, decide to write early against the loss of power. Three significant storms in 10 days is a bit much. Temps not supposed to get above freezing this week, but the sun yesterday, though the temp never got above 28 degrees, was able to melt the snow on the edge of the front roof and there are icicles three feet long. I harvest some for tonight's cocktails. I make a macaroni salad for no good reason other than it sounds good and I have a set of ingredients that might substitute for what Momma Rombauer recommends. Boiled the elbow macaroni, diced in some roasted peeled peppers (from a jar), some sun-dried tomatoes (from a jar) and some raw minced onion; I made a dressing form mayo, a spoonful of brown mustard and a couple of packets of Arby's horseradish sauce. Excellent. I eat a large plate of this, with the last of the duck pate, which I had stored under a layer of bacon fat. This is a very good way to store things in the fridge, because the layer of fat comes right off and can be reused, and if you live alone there's always too much of everything when you cook. Some things don't take well to freezing. Snowing hard again, almost an inch in the last hour, I have the sense of being buried alive. At least I can see all the way across the hollow. A pretty sight, all the trees are coated on one side with driven snow, so it's a stand of half-trees, against the white background. My depth perception is completely fucked but it so beautiful outside, under the growing blanket, the white so intense and virgin, that I'm mostly staring into the middle distance anyway, remembering old lovers and other storms. Early darkness, because of the thick overcast, but my god, this is the mother of all snow-storms, the weather service has drastically under-estimated the amount of southern moisture that would be available to this arctic front. I'm being hammered here. Of the major food groups, I'd run out of coffee first, but I'll get out before that, I have a show to install. We're already at a Class One Emergency, which is 'don't drive if you don't have to' and should be Class Two tomorrow morning, 'Only Emergency Vehicles'. Sara calls and we talk about the weather, I talk with Glenn, I talk with D, we pretty much do what we can. Life goes on.