In answer to the question: how is the baby liking the snow?

 

 

It's not exactly a marshmallow world; I've only seen North Carolina turned into a marshmallow world twice in the twenty years I've lived here.  The ground and trees are dusted prettily, though.  The snow kicks up when we venture outdoors.  Most people want to know how the baby's liking the snow.  The truth is, I think Mads is less impressed with the snow than I am with the way he looks in his snow suit.  Since getting all this weather the past couple weeks, Mads has taken to dragging his snow suit off its hanger in the foyer, laying it on the floor at my feet, and then laying on top of it--letting me know he'd like to venture outdoors.  But it's the outdoors he wants, not the snow, certainly not the ice.  After about fifteen minutes experiencing actual winter, he will begin to fuss and hold his arms up to be held.  The wind cuts his face and his fingers probably hurt, though when he realizes I am carrying him toward the house, he will throw a fit.  He doesn't want to be inside, exactly, he just doesn't want the outside to be so harsh. He'd like me to do something about this, and I have no way of explaining to him yet that I don't control these things.  Even if I did, though, I might still let it snow.

 

 

Here's a flashback to last January, the babies' first snow. Also: last February's snow.

 

 

The Pits (Not)

I love heading west on 64.  West is my favorite direction, and 64 is my favorite high way.  The road we live on empties out onto 64.  It is the high way we drove to the birth center, where we listened to our baby's heart beat when he still resided in my belly and where, eventually, I birthed him.  It is the route we take to Asheville, my favorite city, where, before baby, Wolfman and I took mini honeymoons, holding hands in the shade of rolling mountains.  And it is 64 West, just past Lake Jordan, where Pittsboro is nestled, our destination this past weekend (well, Monday--our weekends are Sunday and Monday).

 

I'd been wanting to visit Pittsboro for a while, but somehow it never happened.  And then, last month, Wolfman ate lunch out there with his friend Crist.  The whole thing reminded me, not without humor, of my grandma complaining my grandpa never takes her places but would travel great distances to golf or fish with buddies.  After his Pittsboro daytrip with a friend, Wolfman had no excuse not to take me.

 

Crist accompanied us on our trip, knowing Pittsboro and its people.  He took us to Angelina's Kitchen, a farm-to-table Greek restaurant patronized at that particular lunch hour by farmers--bearded men, mostly older, who greeted each other jovially and smiled indulgently at Mads.  Next, we walked to The Phoenix Bakery, where owner Jodi (and pal of Crist's), in talking about parenthood, opened the door to The One-and-Done Club for me.  I'd never heard One-and-Done Club, but I am so a member--Mads is my one and only baby, my one and done.  Wolfman and I brought home three macaroons, a brownie with the heft of a brick, and a vanilla buttercream cupcake (I was torn between the cupcake and a coconut cream donut, but ultimately, I cannot resist buttercream).  The macaroons and half the brownie lasted until breakfast the next morning.  (The grown-up way to eat dessert for breakfast is with black coffee.)

 

We visited a couple other shops on Hillsboro Street while Mads slept in his stroller.  I admired a pair of studded $700 cowboy boots and paintings of fish (I've really been into paintings of fish lately, more than any other animal).  Wolfman bought me a couple photographer's greeting cards. Altogether, we were only in Pittsboro for a few short hours.  It was cold and wet, and the shops and sidewalks all felt too narrow for my stroller, which seems to get more cumbersome the longer I use it.  On Mondays most of the shops are closed as well, but Crist pointed out the businesses he found particularly interesting for our future visits.  As we drove back out to the high way, I pointed out the tree that greeted me when we entered Pittsboro, which the menfolk had somehow missed, a tree with a cowboy silhouette leaning against in on one side and teddy bears stapled to the other, as if climbing. 

Angelina's Kitchen

Mosaic by LaNelle Davis

A piece of rusted out old car sitting outside the abandoned barn pictured above.

Bamboo forest.

The Phoenix Bakery, where good macaroons and good conversation was had.

Outside Beggars and Choosers, closed on Mondays.

Sound Bites

Norman Reedus's busted, ugly face.

"It's January, and there's a disturbing lack of brown liquor in this house." - Wolfman

"Sierra, do you remember when I first listened to Discovery by Daft Punk and sat on the bed crying for two hours?" - The Kid

"Martigan, you are not evolved from monkeys.  You are a monkey." - Wolfman

"I had an argument with a woman the other day who insisted Norman Reedus is attractive.  Norman Reedus has a busted, ugly face, and he knows it." - The Kid

As Wolfman leaves for work on Valentine's morning I tell him, "We love you, baby.  We are all your Valentines."  He answers, "I'm your boogeyman."

January Joys & Favorites

My Christmas cactus, given to me years ago by a former co-worker, in bloom for the first time ever.

Waking early in the morning to make Wolfman breakfast before he leaves for work.

Finding an old tin box in the back yard thicket, hidden years ago by Wolfman when he was still a boy, and breaking it open to find old fire crackers and a triceratops toy.

Favorite beverages: Davidson Organic's coconut & vanilla rooibos tea and Old North State Winery's (of Mount Airy) Restless Soul red table wine (which comes, as a bonus favorite, with a ghost story on its label).

Favorite product: Bitty Bettys Liberty perfume.  Not typically a perfume girl (by which I mean, not at all a perfume girl) and though Santa mostly stuffed this in my stocking because of the cute bottle, I was surprised by how much I enjoy the light, citrusy scent.

Favorite acquisitions: Shell & Rope asymmetrical belt purchased for $2 at the Cat Angels Thrift Store in Cary, a turquoise and faux pearl necklace and bracelet set generously given to me by my boss, April, and a cheery chevron & polka dot wipe-able tablecloth given to me by my sister.

Favorite movie: Sharknado 2: The Second One

Favorite book: Dead Man's Walk by Larry McMurtry.  I'm re-reading the Lonesome Dove Saga and not regretting that decision at all.


Favorite music: Camel's The Snow Goose.  Wolfman brought a vinyl copy of this album home at the end of December, and I've been playing it incessantly.

Martigan's favorites: Grandfather Twilight by Barbara Berger, Highlight's Hello Magazine, and Pee Wee's Playhouse.  Both Grandfather Twilight and Pee Wee's Playhouse were favorites of mine when I was a little, and I'm enjoying revisiting them with my boy.