With A Shiver in My Bones

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

-Robert Frost
***

I have been waiting to post until I can find some photos, but I give up. My Grandma Layton died last night, so instead of going to Cousin Bill's wedding in Mesa on March 3rd, I am going to Grandma's funeral in Thatcher next Friday. Rich and I have to postpone our sixth anniversary trip to the Billings Temple (we've done that for 5 years)---we will be apart on our anniversary for the first time. That stinks.



I am sad about losing my Grandma today. I've been okay all day until we sang "Nearer My God To Thee" in Sacrament Meeting. She has been sick for a long time and she has come up to say good bye to me twice, so I know she has been ready to go for a while (my grandpa died almost 29 years ago). But I had just decided (perhaps selfishly) last week that I would go see her while I was down in AZ for Bill's wedding because I would rather see her alive than go to her funeral. I had that exact discussion with my brother Sam on the phone last Sunday, and he agreed to come with me to Thatcher so I could see her and get a picture of James with her. Shucks. So James and I will go down for her funeral instead.





Adding to my blues (as if death and winter weren't enough to be blue about), James went to the doctor for his cough last week and he has bronchiolitis and has to have prednisone, azithromicin, albuterol nebulizer, and a humidifier. He hasn't been fussy at all, never had a fever, just a bad night time cough. He is sleeping better now--the breathing treatments really help (he has this pacifier thing with a little vent on it for his nebulizer--it's pretty cool and it works great, except he is wired and won't stop babbling after each treatment). I went to a dermatologist about a bunch of rashes I have. She diagnosed most of them as psoriasis, but had to take a chunk of skin for a biopsy from the cracks of my legs (yeah, I know--nice. I was just celebrating the fact that I wouldn't have anybody poking around down there again for a long time, but alas--) cuz there's some kind of skin cancer that looks like that. So I've got stitches AGAIN, which means no sanity-saving jet tubbing for a week. I should get the results at my follow up visit on Valentine's day (the day we drive down to Utah to catch my plane on Thursday). Also, Addie fell down at my Mom-in-law's house on Friday and hurt her arm. She is still not using her arm today, so it's off to the clinic tomorrow to get it checked. I think she dislocated or sprained her shoulder, but we'll see.





On the lighter side of things, a fellow blogger needs some help. She is trying to get comments from all 50 states. Click here to see if your state is listed; if not, leave a comment and what state you are from (you could leave a comment anyway--that always brightens a blogger's day).





And even brighter, I have joined the staff of Segullah Magazine as assistant features editor. Have a look at the magazine; it comes out three times a year in print and on line and is aimed at LDS women from all walks of life. Tell your friends and buy a copy if you can! I hope to be able to contribute some writing to the next issue as well as editing (if I can get my head out of these winter clouds for a while). I am really excited, mostly to be exercising my brain a little more and to be in the company of some really talented and entertaining mujeres.

***

I sometimes hold it half a sin
To put in words the grief I feel;
For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.
But, for the unquiet heart and brain,
A use in measured language lies;
The sad mechanic exercise,
Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.
In words, like weeds, I’ll wrap me o’er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold:
But that large grief which these enfold
Is given in outline and no more.

-Tennyson, In Memoriam (V)