warm hands
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Thalia pulls her hood over her hat. “Re-mehhm-br what Auntie Kay used to sa-eeee? Wear your hat! You loose ninety percent of your heeeee-t through your head.”
“She also said,” Nia zips up, “— Warm hands, warm heart.”
“A highlight…” Cal remembers Auntie teaching the cousins how to jitterbug while the rest of the adults were doing grown-up things, “of our childhood.”
Memories of childhood were the dreams that stayed with you after you woke.
~Julian Barnes
A note from LoveLetterist:
A couple of weeks ago when Henrietta and I went to get our mail, we spied our neighbor Andy on his roof, attaching multi-colored lights to the peaks.
When we made eye contact, I waved.
"Hey! How's it going?" he called.
"Good. I don't want to disturb your focus." The thought of being in his position sent chills up my spine.
"I'm good up here," he called back.
We chatted for a couple of minutes. He always asks how I'm doing after my dance with c.
"How are the driving lessons going?" His oldest has her temporary permit. My memory skips back to her jumping up and down in stocking feet, waving good-bye in the drive as her dad drove up the hill and out of sight for his 12 hour shift.
"Oh... you know. You've been there."
Warm mittens I can see
Adorned with evergreen trees
Inviting cold hands
There’s a magical quality to your painting this morning, LoveLetterist. The swoosh of night sky studded with stars and red and green adorning your mittens (at least I think the trees are green - owing to wonky eyeballs - as heatherish hues hinder a full sense of green).
A note to Nia. The corollary to “warm hands, warm heart” is “cold hands, cold feet.” I sort of run hot and cold. But if I develop cold hands and especially cold feet, as occurred on my first walk with Iz (50° but 25 mph wind chill), the cold hangs on tenaciously! Though my heart is warm.
I found your remarks from Medium above average. 🤭 Garrison Keeler-esque. The observation by Julian Barnes, and a hasty mental search, revealed no recallable pleasant dreams from childhood.
There were night terrors. The lion in the bedroom closet. An entire zoo of animals climbing through the bedroom window and powerless to impede them. Best of the worst was of me playing outside and suddenly realizing a loud aircraft was heading directly at me and my feeling hotter and hotter as it neared. And I unable to move or scream. Weird, that.
Thanks for the memories. 🤭