[stylist] Wintry Tale

Sun Jan 27 17:49:22 UTC 2013

Lynda,
Your recovery sounds    a bit strenuous! Your project is fascinating and
will keep your recovery time filled to the brim. But the dog-walking? Why
not wait for the snow to melt. I would think that boots sunk deep in snow
could create strain. Just worried a little.
It is a great story, and your little companions truly come across as
personalities in your story.
Good wishes for a return of normalcy.
Jackie

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Lynda Lambert
Sent: Sunday, January 27, 2013 9:32 AM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] Wintry Tale

I continue to recover from surgery I had on January 4th - but have been able
to sit awhile now and spent the last couple of days writing. The other big
project I am working on during the entire month of January is to revisit my
own art history. I have begun the big project of putting my archives in
order and putting them into chronological order. Since I began a
professional exhibition career in 1976, this is a very big project with over
300 exhibitions to be recorded chronologically. This has needed to be done
for a long time, but now that I am retired, and also recuperating from
surgery, I can do this job. Once it is finished, it will be put on CDs and
sent off to the museums and galleries that archive my career and have my
work in their permanent collections. I have to say that turning the bend
this year to my next "0" birthday has been great motivation to get it all
done NOW.

Here's the little story I wrote yesterday and today:

A Canine Snow Story

By Lynda McKinney Lambert

I quickly  opened the kitchen door in the early morning dusky lavender light
today. It was not quite daylight yet but the dogs were used to getting up
early. This was our routine since Bob and I are retired and often take them
out during the night or in the very early morning hours. Mitchell and Rocco,
our two  dogs,  were anxious to explore the outdoors, as usual.  Rocco is a
PomSheltie mix and he bounced out with his fluffy tail waving like a flag
behind him He never had to have a leash on because he understood his
boundaries and he would stay with me for our morning walk.

On the other hand, Mitchell was a terrier. I often like to tell people she
is a TERROR-ier. Mitchell had to wear her red harness and stay on the leash
because she just never understood that we have boundaries. If she was not on
the leash, she would be dashing back and forth across the two roads near our
house, and she would be visiting every other home in sight.  If she happened
to get loose, and she did on occasion, then all I would see would be quick
flashes of a white dog darting about in ever widening circles. She moved so
fast her brown spots were invisible. Once that happened, all I could do was
to wait her out. She never came when called, and had no clue that she was in
danger. She ran like a Greyhound on a race track in pursuit of the fake
rabbit. She dashed through the woods, and at times came back home after
rolling about in stinky messes left on the floor of the woods by wild
animals.  

The three of us were a common sight as we walked through the woods and into
the meadow at the top of the ridge overlooking the creek.

I must have looked especially strange as we burst forth from the warm house
into the cold morning today.  I was wearing tall rubber Wellies to keep my
feet dry from the snow drifts. I had ordered the Wellies from the L. L. Bean
catalogue last winter for days just like this one. It was very cold and the
snow was deep. They were just perfect for my winter walks with my dogs.

But today, in just a few moments, it was too late! Frisky and impulsive,
Mitchell pulled me into a deep snow drift that was higher than my boot tops.
My long lavender flannel nightgown caught the snow as we were launched into
the drift. Snow surrounded me.  With shocking wetness against the bare skin
above my boot tops.  My dark purple plush bathrobe flapped in the wintry
coldness that blew up from the creek bed. It felt warm as a winter coat and
the soft gray wool scarf I had wrapped around my neck warmed my face. 

I tried holding up my snow laden nightgown, but the snow was stuck here all
around the inside hem of my flannel nightgown. I plunged on down the
hillside into the meadow on the ridge overlooking the frozen creek.

Mitchell and Rocco  were excited and sniffing the air. I was busy looking
around for fresh deer tracks in the snow. Mitchell held a pose that told me
she was looking for something in the woods. She stood perfectly still, with
her face pointing towards the bare trees.  This stance always made me a
little nervous, because I did not want to run into one of the deer. On
occasion we did, and it would snort and stamp it's feet at us and I would
quickly turn around and move out of it's domain. Rocco would run after the
deer, barking and chasing it back deeper into the woods while I would scream
at him to come back "now." Shortly, is little fluffy black and tan
long-haired  body would come bouncing back, when he was ready to do it.

Only a couple of cars drove by on the main road as we stomped through the
wet snow. Finally, we turned around and headed back up the hill to the
house. In a short second, I felt my right boot slip beneath the snow, and I
was thrown down onto my face with my hands extended outward above my head.
My legs apart, and the toes of my Wellies dug deep into the drift. 

It happened so fast I could never have prevented this fall. It was painless.
I began to laugh out loud. I hoped my husband, Bob, was not watching out the
window and I hoped he did not see our morning plunge into the newly fallen
snow.

Mitchell, quickly turned around to see what was happening when she felt the
leash pull her to a stop. Fortunately, I held tight, and was still laughing
as I staggered back up onto my feet.  Bob  greeted us at the kitchen door
and we laughed together because he had seen me rolling about deep in the
morning snow. I was now completely covered with snow and remarked that "Here
come the snow bunnies."  

Here's a little Wintry Tale from an adventure I had yesterday morning. 
Lynda Lambert
104 River Road
Ellwood City, PA 16117

724 758 4979

My Blog:  http://www.walkingbyinnervision.blogspot.com
My Website:  http://lyndalambert.com