snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow!

[ontology]

Today I feel very uncomfortably how I have Grown Up. It is snowing magnificently and everywhere and the whole world is buried in it, and it is really very lovely and strange, but my thoughts are mainly concerned with 'would you look at this awful great mess that I've got to bicycle to work in all next week?'

Although there was a certain strange magic about bundling up in all of the warm things I could drape round myself (I looked exactly like Mrs Whatsit, only with weirder hair and thick glasses and a much preferable nose) and my very long Annascarf and going out into the world to fetch bacon from a store down the block. The world is vaguely post-apocalpytic in the snow: everything strangely shaped, ordinary things made unrecogniseable, a few people milling about on important errands looking brave and forthright and vaguely triumphant (or simply harried and cold and wet), and once in a while there'd be a sound like a car going by, which was so bizarre and out of place that I would jump and look round for it. yp

And: because of the snowstorm, I am sitting on my bed typing, instead of waiting for my inevitably late replacement to come in at the kiosk. The assistant manager called me this morning and told me not to even bother. It is the first Saturday I have had off in months.

Comments

[spockodile.livejournal.com]

I love the sound of falling snow.

[gules]

MRS WHATSIT FTW.

also unexpected days off are the absolute best, i am so glad for you.

i feel vaguely that i should let you know—your entries always make me feel sort of... intellectually stimulated & desperately fond & satisfied somehow, like i've just read a book which may or may not be the most cheerful of books but more importantly was a good book, the sort that leaves you ringing like a struck bell. idk if that made any sense, or will provide you with any feeling of accomplishment (oh wow, someone on the internet told me i was awesomecakes, clearly that is all the validation i need... NOT), but it does mean a lot to me, so i thought i'd tell you.

♥

[faeriemaiden.livejournal.com]

Mrs Whatsit was eminently preferable to my other option: a deranged street person. :D (A Wrinkle in Time was the first book I ever remember reading that felt, in the only description I could come up with at nine, grown-up -- not because it was difficult or odd or depressing or anything, but because it meant something, and it had a tang and a weight that thrilled and hurt and left me a little staggered.)

[doffs cap a little shyly] Well, thankee kindly. It helps, when my fiction writing has been so sparse and difficult lately (by which I mean THE LAST FEW YEARS), that there is some writing of mine doing anybody any good. :) (now I will go run away somewhere because compliments make me awkwarder than a pubescent stork.)

[barefoottomboy.livejournal.com]

MRS WHATSIT FTW INDEED.

Glad to hear the scarf is useful - and has aquired a nickname, no less!

Also, I had a really weird dream the other night in which I met Madeleine L'Engle, who hadn't really died - they thought she had, so she took advantage of this and went underground/incognito. Anyway, I got reallyreally excited about this on your behalf, and spent the rest of the dream trying to remember which was your favourite L'Engle (I couldn't remember if it was the first or second volume of her autobiography, and I badly wanted to make sure it was your absolute favourite). There was a detailed conversation with L'Engle, as well, but I don't remember it, sadly.