Late Night / Blizzard of '09

Well it's Friday night and the snow is coming down. It's a little after midnight, and so I had to hit play on "Midnight Moonlight," a song that just happened to be there in one of my playlists.

"If you ever feel lonesome . . . "

Sing on, Jerry. I know it's not really a snow song, but it feels like the right song for the moment, which is all that matters. "Midnight Moonlight" also reminds me of California, and that's a place I'll be visiting soon in my mind.

Yes, the snow's been falling for a few hours now, and there's a couple inches on the ground. And actually, I just got home. I was at two parties. First, I was at Mary's, to see her and her family and Jenny and Ivan. And then I went over to Hilary's, where a Christmas party was happening. I would have liked to stay at both parties longer, but a serious storm was coming, and I wanted to get home early to minimize my time on the snowy roads.

So that's what I did. I left Travis and Hilary's home, and followed all the usual roads, driving slow in the old Honda Civic. And now I'm home and everyone is sleeping. But no sleep for me, at least not for a while. Janice is still on the road, and so I'm going to stay awake till she gets here--late night solidarity with my sister, and some phone calls every so often to check in with her.

They were calling for about eight inches, but now they're saying much more. Easily over a foot, and some places close to twenty inches. It certainly feels like it's going to be a big one.

So the snow is falling. I am writing. And Janice is driving. She's on her way back to Maryland for her friend Grace's wedding. The wedding will be tomorrow, Saturday. My goal is to keep writing until Janice gets here. When I say writing, I mean working on my book, book 1, the story of the first big bike tour. Of course right now I'm taking a break from the book so I can update the blog.

Breaks are good. I went downstairs and took Marley out. He loves the snow. And boy, it's really coming down. A good steady snowfall. They're predicting blizzard weather, so we'll see. And now, back to the book . . . .

. . . . We'll it's a few hours later, getting deep into those crazy hours now: 3 o'clock and 4 o'clock. Soon I'll be over the hump and into 5 a.m. territory, which is no longer night but morning in my mind, and that'll somehow make it feel better. But I have a secret weapon: I've been staying up late the last couple weeks, so 4 a.m. doesn't seem so bad. Staying up late seems normal now. I've been working two writing shifts each day: a morning shift from about noon till 5 or 6. Then a dinner/evening break. And then the night shift which can go from 7 till maybe 2 or 3 a.m.

Right now, in book 1, I'm working on the chapters along the California coast, getting close to San Francisco. I'm looking back at some photos from my recent travels which yielded some good research. I'm writing about the sunny realm of California and the Pacific Coast and the Coastal Variations from day to day--and outside my window the snow is coming down--it's a nice contrast. I like the contrast and the two different worlds. There's two world everyday: the world in my mind, and the world outside. I just felt a chill when I typed that last sentence, a strange-loop-kind-of-a-chill that sometimes happens when you're writing about something that's happening at the same time. Also maybe a stuck-in-a-moment-kind-of-thing, as U2 said in their song. And so with that, I might as well pause this blog post here, and get back to the book and my late-night solidarity with Janice. It's time to call her again. . . . .

. . . . We'll it's getting close to six a.m. Janice should be here any minute. I just went outside with Marley again, to run and play in the snow. The canvas is fresh and clean, so much possibility. A big snowfall is an interesting experience. Rain falls and then soaks into the ground. Ice/freezing rain comes down and makes the world hard and dangerous. But snow just sits there like fine stuffing that has tumbled down from the inside of the clouds. Sure it's cold, but it's soft too. At least in my mind. Soft and quiet, like somehow the snow is absorbing the sounds, which is probably is. Dampening vibrations and eating sound waves. There's a lot about snow that I don't know.

The wind was also blowing hard. I had to gear up with a down coat and my rain gear jacket and pants. I wore my yellow-tinted safety glasses to keep the blowing snow from stinging my eyes. I was walking with Marley, just walking down the center of the street, through the ever-thickening canvas, when I saw a car approaching. I thought it was Janice even though I knew she wasn't due to arrive for about half an hour. But it had to be her. No one else driving at that hour. So I was waving and jumping up and down as the car crept toward me, headlights looking very yellow through my glasses. Marley and I moved to the side as the car came closer, and it was then that I saw the driver. Not Janice, but some lady with a cigarette in her mouth. It was the paper delivery person. I said that I sorry, and that I thought she was someone else. And she just smiled and then tossed a paper out her open window, and then almost got stuck when she tried to back out. I thought I was going to have to help push. Her car just barely made it.

. . . . It's later now, and Janice is home safe. Time to get some sleep. I just finished saving my word document, after writing myself some notes for next time. I wrote my notes, as I usually do, at the place where I intend to pick up and keep working. I also wrote "Start here" so I can find my spot. When I start my writing day tomorrow, I'll just do a "control+F" and search for "start here." Then I can pick up where I left off--although I usually go back to the beginning of the chapter just so I can get back into the groove.

And so I've reached the end of another work day. Thanks for reading, safe travels, and goodnight.