Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

I'm trying to work, really work, but the action at the bird feeders is incredibly distracting. The biting cold and snow have the birds eating constantly, which is fine by me. I love just sitting here watching them. But I'm not getting any work completed. Perhaps I should wait until this evening, after dark, to start work. The third pic I took last Sunday. I walked over to the hill to snap a few photos. There were people sledding. I stood and listened to them laugh and whoop as they whooshed down the hill under the blood moon.

And now I wait. Yesterday I defended my promotion portfolio to a group of colleagues from different areas of the college: Environmental Science, Early Childhood Education, and Nursing. I've known the members of my reading team for many years, and honestly, it was a real pleasure talking teaching with them. At one point, when one of the readers said our gathering was a celebration of teaching, the thought crossed my mind that they were in favor of my promotion. But I won't know for sure for nearly two more weeks. So now I'll have to turn my attention to other things, things that will keep me busy, like loading Ado into the car and driving up to the lake for some long walks. Or working on a few of my own pieces that will be a part of my sabbatical project. Or getting the bike out and taking that first ride of the season now that the sun is warming our days. I'm sure I can find other things to focus on, to distract me from wondering if I will get that coveted letter ...

Yikes! I am totally distracted by BTUSFMS and the fact that my fundraising goal is so close I can almost reach out and touch it. But really, my distraction today isn't so much about the excitement of reaching goal. No. Rather, it's about the envelope that was handed to me this morning at work and what was tucked inside, clipped to the donation, that is creating a whirlwind of thoughts. Yorktown Tattoo My mom loved temporary tattoos. She often talked about putting a rose on her ankle, but due to the compression socks she had to wear to keep the swelling down, she wasn't able to ever don the rose she so wanted. Today, paper clipped to the donation offered to me was a temporary tattoo. It's not a rose, but it is whimsical and one I know Mom would have liked. I'm going to apply it to my ankle the morning I start out from Yorktown, leaving it on as long as the dirt and grime from the road allow. And since I've been talking about getting a real tattoo for the ...