Photo: Our house.
I lived in the South until I was 30. When I lived there, I thought icicles were those silver things people put on Christmas trees.
I'm a University Lecturer in English and the author of a novel, The Secret of Hurricanes (MacAdam/Cage 2002). My life is summed up by Rumi, who said: "My story gets told in various ways: a romance, a dirty joke, a war, a vacancy." Rumi's quote is the epigraph to Hurricanes. The purpose of this journal is to explore creativity and the writing life.
6 comments:
Nice picture. How neat that you thought icicles were the same as tinsel. It is impossible to know some things without experiencing them. Teagrapple
The picture wouldn't open for me, but I got so tickled at the icicle comment. Somewhere buried in the family albums is a picture of my sister and me holding up icicles that were longer than we were tall. I think I was about four, and that is the only real memory of icicles I have.
Oh My Theresa, it looks so cold there! Your photograph reminds me of growing up in Denver where each year icicles formed around our house just like they do on yours.
Stay warm,
T
I wonder how they will sound as they fall - or melt.
Love icicles- Remember childhood in New Hampshire- Still go icicle hunting on drives here-
Keep warm-
Gretchen
I was almost widowed when I'd been married less than 2 weeks, because A & I lived in Chicago, in a 2-story coachhouse built just after the Chicago fire, and we used to get a 2-story icicle off the roof. A went out and snapped it off, worried about our 4 year old neighbor, but the icicle broke in pieces and hit A on the head and knocked him out. He had to have stitches, too. Ah, The Icicle Saga! :)
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