my husband is the baby is our dog is sleeping through this blizzard.
two feet of snow on the ground, more coming down (and up and sideways), and the sky is getting dark. no electricity for nearly a day, and i have candles lit around the room, but what is most dominant is the woodstove, glowing flames glimpsed through tempered glass, heat thrown into the room. i could stand, find a book, or my knitting, but all four of us are tangled on this couch and i would disturb them all by standing, so i’ll sit and watch the fire, keep my eyes on it, wait until i cannot not stand, wait until more fuel is needed. while my husband shoveled, while my baby nursed, it has been my job to watch this fire, keep it alive, keep it fierce. that’s what i had never thought about – the homefire is not about a little cozy warmth come the blizzard times. it’s about keeping from freezing. it’s about extreme heat. the inferno in the iron cage.
keep the calm. keep everyone fed and warm and dry. keep the spark. keep it close.