The traveling writing room
SNOW BIRD ROOKIE
See the photo above? Do you have any idea what you’re looking at? I’ll get back to that. First, let me tell you what I’m up to. I’m on Day One of my newest adventure. I’ve decided to see what a Snow Bird feels like, you know, those mature people who leave the cold during the winter and travel to somewhere warmer and don’t come home until the icicles have melted from all the bird feeders? I live in Wisconsin. The world is my oyster because everywhere on the planet is warmer than Wisconsin in February, except maybe Minnesota. But that still leaves 48 states to choose from.
For my first go at Snow Birding, I’ve chosen Texas. A bunch of folks I love have settled in those parts, so I’m going to flit from one to another mooching off of them. However, I’m traveling with Gerp, my Traveling Writing Room, so I’m bringing my own bed and my own guard dog, you know how ferocious labradoodles can be, right?
So, tonight, Atticus and I are holed up in a little private campground somewhere in Illinois. However, we’ve run into a little problem. To get to Texas, one must travel through IL, MO, AR, all states that are experiencing an unprecedented ‘polar vortex’. When I left Wisconsin this morning, it was 18 degrees. Tonight, I’m bundled in the TWR under three blankets, an electric blanket, and a towel draped over my head to keep what heat I have left from leaking out my forehead. Traveling Writing Rooms are not known for their thick insulation. It’s 36 degrees and has been raining all day. Hooking up the TWR in the frigid rain was about as enjoyable as licking an ice-covered flag pole in Alaska, another state I won’t be Snow Birding toward. Okay, I still have 47 states in which to warm my feathers.
Did you know that feet when wet and cold are next to impossible to warm up, especially if one has been tromping around in icy puddles and rain hooking up the electric, water and potty thingys? As I write this I cannot feel my left big toe. Which brings me to the photo. My socks were soaked by the time I was done with my camping chores. Once I was finally inside the TWR, it would have taken a S.W.A.T team to extract me out of the camper and back into the chilling rain. Long story short, all my clean, dry socks were out in the car. I did happen to find one sock left over in a cupboard from another camping trip. Just one. The other one must have gone to live with Jesus. So, what you are seeing in the photo, are my frozen feet clothed in whatever I could find to help resuscitate them.
I have goals and hopes for this time away. I plan on starting a new writing project when I’m not mooching. A story is wanting to be told and needs me to help it out. Also, if you know anything about me, you know that I am a woman unashamed of her faith. My relationship with God is one of trust and ever-seeking. But, lately, it has dawned on me that I’ve been doing all the talking, asking God for, well, everything. On this Snow Bird sabbatical, I want to stop telling God what I want and go silent to better hear what He wants … of me. If nothing else, God will enjoy the quiet.
I’m beginning to feel my left big toe again, so I may live another day. Do you have an adventure you want to go on? I’d love to hear about it. Until next time, imagine my gloved foot giving you a wave.