Valentine's Day 2011 Entry. Please enjoy Reading, Voting, and Commenting. I hope it leaves you satisfied! ;) Thank you!!!
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Each year around February 14th either found me feeling giddy with romantic notions or bitter with disillusionment. This year was a mixture of the two. A long, drawn out divorce had finally come to an end. I was free woman again! Gone was the negativity, gone the chaos, gone the lies, the manipulations, the thefts, the stories and childish fibs, gone the need to mother a grown man-child. I was also a lonely woman. This Valentine's Day was all about me, regaining my independence and celebrating my liberation! Only, well there was no one to celebrate with other than the cat. There was no way the bastard was going to get the cat out of the deal. I scooped up my gorgeous snow-shoe cat; with her white mitten paws, snowy fur, snowflake nose, chocolate-point features: raccoon mask, tipped ears and tail and breathed into her fur.
"Ah Callieach, my little wintry goddess, how I love you." The affectionate cat bumped my nose with hers and meowed at me plaintively, displaying some of her Siamese genes. Obviously, someone was hungry. Taking her cue, I headed for the kitchen where I opened a can of wet cat food for her and poured it into her bowl on top of the dry kibble. She wound herself around my ankles rubbing against me, her motor emitting a loud, rumbling purr.
"Do you want to be Mommy's Valentine this year? We'll get drunk on ice cream and watch sappy movies together." I snorted in laughter, startling the cat. "Yeah right! I'm no sap." I asserted to myself, glancing at the window over the sink seeing my reflection. Who was I kidding? I looked like hell! There were dark smudges under my eyes. My chestnut brown hair lay in a lackluster tangle on my shoulders, and I was paler than usual. No more crying: I had promised myself. I slid to the kitchen floor, hitched my knees up to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and gave in to the cleansing power of tears. Calliea padded over on silent mittens and put her front paws on my knees.
"Meowma?" Her voice asked.
"Momma's OK, sweetie." I assured her. Once she was satisfied, she hunched her lean frame and leaped onto the counter, putting her front paws in the sink. I watched her, getting quick glimpses of her pink tongue as it flicked in and out so fast as she drank the incessant drip from the faucet. It put me in mind of the study I had read online about the scientific research being done on how cats actually drink. Fascinating stuff. I had a feeling the cat wouldn't be too happy with me once I got a plumber over to fix the dripping. Aside from the annoyance of the noise, I hated wasting the water. I held onto the knob of the cabinet and pulled myself up. A glimmer out the window caught my eye. Snow!
Snow had begun falling, just a light dusting of large flakes: the kind you can actually see the crystalline formation. The cat daintily removed her paws from the sink and started batting at the window trying to desperately catch the white flakes with her paws. I laughed at her and shook my head reaching past her and up into the cabinet for a mug. I plucked the tea kettle off the stove and poured myself a mug of hot water, adding a few scoop-fulls of cocoa to it, as I snatched the bag of marshmallows off the counter and dumped a few minis into the steaming cup. I set it on the edge and walked over to where my coat was hanging. I donned my coat, scarf, gloves, and hat and slipped my boots on, grabbed my mug of cocoa and sojourned out into the wind. As I slammed the door shut, I heard Calliea hiss at the indignation of her fur being ruffled by the wind.
I ducked my head down and walked into the wind. It whipped against me and I had to brace myself as I walked the curve of my walkway to the back yard. The snow was beginning to pick up and I could see a coating of white shrouding the world. I shrugged and shivered, no plan in mind, only knowing that staying home cooped up on such a day as this was going to drive me crazy. I skirted around my snow covered fire pit and headed for the back woods. It was where I felt most at home. My multi-colored pavers were nearly invisible now. I was surprised with the speed at which the snow was falling. It was dusk and part of me thought maybe I should wait until morning for my little trek, but then I could already see the moon, wide and full and brilliant in the sky. The clouds were kissed a dusky pink and lavender blue, with peachy streaks running through it. It was just a short walk, after all. I should have brought my cell phone, come to think of it. But, I was already on my way, and the trees were calling to me. I took a sip of the hot cocoa, warmed. But, I was already on my way, and the trees were calling to me. I took a sip of the hot cocoa, warmed. I hadn't planned on the force of the driving wind and ice. My cheeks felt like they were being slashed by my cat's claws. Ow! I knew of a place I could escape, at least until the wind died down and I could safely make my way back home. This was not the most brilliant idea. Just a short time ago, the snow was gentle and inviting. Now it was harsh and Mama Nature seemed to be unleashing her temptuous fury.
The oaks, maples, and pines were bare; stark against the white world. But the blue spruces towering above me, comforted me with their clothed presence. I plodded through the thickening snow up to my favorite tree and stood beneath it, staring up in reverence. I set the mug in the snow, hunched down and knelt, carefully crawling under and into the tiny space that the needles created. My silvery blue winter haven. I settled my self, tucking my one knee under my thigh and the other one beside it, reaching my gloved hands to the red-brown bark (a sign of its age), touching the tree, feeling the living pulse. Spruce protected me from the wind and the bitter cold. I resolved to myself that I would only linger for a short time. I picked up a large brown cone that tumbled near my foot and tucked it into my pocket for safe-keeping, thanking the tree for the gift.
The cone brought back bittersweet memories of a happier time, when I was blissfully unaware of the true nature of my ex-husband. He had been tender and attentive to me. His words caressed my ears with poetry and thoughtfulness appealed to my romantic heart. Our first Valentine's Day together, he had gifted me with a gold leaf pendant, as he knew how much I loved trees. It was sweet. He did and said all the right things. I was such a fool: a fool in love. I never saw the care for what it truly was: manipulation. Too bad he didn't know how to navigate or manipulate his way around the bedroom. If he had been more commanding, more take charge, I might have had a bit of a clue to his true nature. But he always kept it rather boring. I was always the one leading. He had no idea what he was doing. Or maybe he did. What did it matter now, anyway? I just thought it might be nice to let someone else lead for awhile. If I could ever trust enough or give up that bit of control, it would be a miracle.
After awhile, I crawled back out and was surprised that I had to push the snow out of my way. I let my daydreaming mind have its way with me again. Not good! Wow, it was really accumulating! My mug of cocoa had disappeared. I shivered, really glad I had remembered to put my silky warm long underwear on under my jeans. They always felt so nice against my skin, I sometimes wore them to bed. I loved that the moisture wicking material never made me sweat in my layers. Had anyone else been out and about they probably would have mistaken me for an eskimo; layer upon layer, bundled up to the nose, thick scarf hugging my neck, a few pairs of gloves failing at their purpose.
I took a deep breath and turned my head to look at the distance to my house. I couldn't see my house. Not good at all! Fear started creeping in upon realizing this was no ordinary snow storm. A white-out meant one thing -- blizzard. Shit! I swung my head back around to look at the path ahead of me. I could see a bit more this way than I could in the direction of home, which was where the wind was blowing from. The snow was deepening. I knew there was a church just on the other side of the woods, somewhere. The distance to the church was less than the distance to my warm house. At least, going through the woods, the snow might not have accumulated so much. It might minimize the wind's bite too. The church doors were always unlocked. I could go in, warm myself up, and make a call to a friend to possibly pick me up.
Settled on this plan, although I admitted to myself again this was not the most brilliant one; I set off. I wished for sunlight or even moonlight. I knew by now the sun was probably on its downward path sinking below the horizon, even if I couldn't see it. The thought of the moon's light beaming down on me somehow comforted me more than the sun. I shuffled forward, feeling snow slip into my boot. That's all I needed was cold, wet feet. The prospect of frost bite causing me to quicken my pace, as best I could. I made it to the woods and breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that I was right, the snow was much shallower and protected by the wind. A golden glow in the far distance urged me onward. I imagined the warmth of that cozy little church; maybe a cup of tea and something to nibble on.
