First day, first post

It's a new year, and time for beginnings. I will be using this space to reflect, remember and renew, sharing stories, thoughts, memories, poems, book reviews and whatever else comes along.

I am a storyteller, a writer, mother of 5 and granny of 12. I work to live the life I love. I work full-time as a librarian, but storytelling, writing and the quiet life of the country are what my job supports.

For this first post, here's a poem for this time of year. We're supposed to get our first snow of the year today.

January Ice

Ice crystals sprayed from a can

My grandson showed me how it works—

hold six inches from the window and spray

Frost appears on glass,

just like Jack Frost painted on windows

in the old drafty house with single-paned windows

that let in every puff of winter's breath

funhouse windows that provided a waved and bubbled view

of Quarry Street and the houses across the alley

We stared in amazement then at the icy fronds

and ferns etched in delicate ice,

glinting pink with the first rays

December's morning sun

We dreamed of Russia, the Snow Maiden and Silverhoof

Sometimes

the ice was half an inch thick

at the bottom of the glass,

mounded in ribs like a frozen tree trunk,

spreading thinner as it climbed the glass

branching with pale tropical foliage

until finally a thin sheet of clear ice

we licked it with warm red tongues, melted it with fingertips,

lifting off pieces with fingernails,

tasting winter and frozen window grime

This can of spray lists directions and ingredients

But nowhere do I see Russia

or magic