Sometimes I think my husband has a whole secret life I know nothing about. He certainly has the coats for it. He has leather jackets, Gore-Tex coats, Polar Fleece coats, down coats, denim coats, micro fiber coats. He has long coats, short coats, and too many vests to count. His coats fill two closets, yet today he bought himself another coat. This one is a Gore-Tex soft shell, perfect for skiing or snow boarding. Maybe it was in honor of the Olympics. I don't know, as far as I'm aware the man has never been near a ski slope in his life. Today's purchase would also work for walking the dog in the rain, except we don't have a dog. The man doesn't even shovel snow. He doesn't jog or ride a motorcycle, but if he ever did he would have the appropriate coat. He has a coat that could climb Mount Everest with him.
What does he do all day while I'm at work?
Two poems about snow:
In winter in the woods alone
Against the trees I go.
I mark a maple for my own
And lay the maple low.
At four o’clock I shoulder axe
And in the afterglow
I link a line of shadowy tracks
Across the tinted snow.
I see for Nature no defeat
In one tree’s overthrow
Or for myself in my retreat
For yet another blow.
Robert Frost
Snow
Yes it can!
Now you know what they say about snowflakes
How there ain't no two the same
Well, all them flakes look alike to me
Every one is a dirty shame
My ears are cold my feet are cold
Bermuda stays on my mind
And I'm here to say that if winter comes
Then spring is a ways behind
Jesse Winchester
