love begins in winter

So the winter is going to rear its frosty and pissed off head this evening by starting the First Great Dump of the season. I already went grocery shopping and got the essentials (Raisinets, coffee, bananas, jam) so I can hunker down and enjoy the frozen tundra that was once my front lawn. But besides the eating necessities I listed, there are a few other helpful things for weathering a storm. Besides an igloo…which I will be constructing in the aforementioned tundra as soon as there is an impressive layer of snow to use.

I recently finished reading a beautiful book called Love Begins in Winter by Simon VanBooy. It’s a collection of five short stories written from the perspectives of people whose lives are turned completely around by love. And not the kind of love found in The Notebook or Monster-In-Law, so cloyingly sweet it tickles the gag reflex.. The stories are about the kind that works because the people were crying out on the same wavelength, and didn’t have to pretend to be perfect once their cries were heard. It’s a book that dampens noise around you, and makes patterns in the couch seem like universes to be contemplated. People on the street soften, and strangers’ eyes reflect less of my jaded expectations. Love isn’t polished up, or put in a display window, but it isn’t made into desperate tragedy. It’s just…there. As much as the crack in the front step that I stub my toe on every day…it makes love seem so painfully obvious it made me cry. As though I had been waiting for fireworks in a sea of candles.

"Children are the closest we are to wisdom, and they become adults the moment that final drop of everything mysterious is strained from them. I think it happens quietly to every one of us -- like crossing a state line when you're asleep."
-Tiger Tiger (Love Begins in Winter)

A comforting new voice warmed my chilly eardrums a while ago. Her name is Laura Groves, and she hails from Yorkshire. But her stage name is Blue Roses, and she is wonderful. I know that singer/songwriters can become a tedious middle of the road journey into half hearted “ooh”s and empty “aah”s, but Blue Roses clings to the real spirit of a woman and her music, much like a Joni Mitchell. Or in the track I've linked to; Feist. She hasn’t reached her apex as a musician, clearly, which makes listening to the journey even more exciting. She emulates a gray day on a dim stage with her ambling, sun tinged folk tunes, showing her best with her shining melodies that sound like old favorites played by someone finding her voice. I like her. Maybe you will, too.

Check out her self-titled debut that popped onto the market this summer.

Doubtful Comforts- Blue Roses

So bundle up everyone! Snow can be wonderful when you want to create your own world and its own rules. The rules of my Snow World will include hot beverages, blankets, and some wild dance parties with the dog and cat! Bipeds have an advantage, though.