Snow, snow, snow!

It's that time of year again.  The first snowfall that will "stick" arrived this past week in my neck of the woods and I can officially say it's winter.  Supposedly that isn't until December 22, but who are we kidding?  There's no going back now.

But against all logic, even in Minnesota, I seem to be caught unawares by a change I expect but don't really believe is going to happen...until it happens. Because while the leaves swirl and dance, there is still time.  Maybe somehow, it could go the other way.  In the gray, bare landscape of November I can fancifully imagine the fallen leaves swirling from the ground back to their branches just as easily as I can imagine them being still long enough to allow the cover of a blanket of snow.  Can you blame them?  It's worth a try to put off the inevitable, as if they were children fighting their bedtime.

To imagine November as a state of limbo, with change possible either way, might be why dealing with the consequences of snow is always an adjustment.  I'm caught unawares because I go by the motto nothing is written in stone.  

Oh.   So I guess it is.  But the snow has to stick before I'm convinced!

Only with the snow staying put do I deal with the consequences.    Surprisingly, this isn't quite the same as being like either the irresponsible grasshopper or the industrious ant who both have a different strategy in how they prepare for the consequences of winter.  I might still get an "I told you so" from the ant, but I'd prove how quickly I can adjust.

Because I'm not a grasshopper or an ant.  I'm some critter in between who might not have a clue where the heck the snow shovel is, but knows she has one.  (Ah, see, there it is, stuck in the corner of the shed behind the weed whacker and the lawn mower...and a lot of other things.)  I'm not unprepared, I just need to rearrange.

Just yesterday, I was shoveling snow when my cell phone played a tune and caller ID said it was Mrs. Ant. (Yeah, really.)

Critter Me: (pulling off my glove) Hello, Mrs. Ant.

Mrs. Ant: (sounding smug) It's snowing. (also read: "I told you so.")

Critter Me (leaning on my snow shovel):  Really?

Mrs. Ant: It's a little late this year, but Mr. Ant says there's no going back now.

Critter Me:  I guess not.  (Grinning, I can't resist asking.) Do you and Mr. Ant need anything?

Mrs. Ant:  (offended snort!)  Of course, not.  We've been preparing for this all year.  Pause. And you?

Critter Me:   I'm good.  (It was mostly true.  As soon as I got the critter-mobile unburied I'd go to the Critter-Mart.) 

In the background at Mrs. Ant's house I hear bang, bang, bang!  "Let m-me in!"

Critter Me:  Who's that? (as if I didn't know)

Mrs. Ant: (back to sounding smug)  Mr. Grasshopper, of course.  He has a silly notion every year that the leaves will just fly back on the trees!

Critter Me:  (laughs weakly) Imagine that.

***

Even though the fable has poor Mr. Grasshopper turned away as a moral lesson, I imagine Mr. and Mrs. Ant will let him in...eventually.  They probably enjoy a long winter of the grasshopper singing for his supper!

The rest of us critters have to deal with winter the best we can.  We are probably more reactive than we'd like, but the call to action of the first snow just might be the incentive some of us need to narrow our options when we've been in a limbo of possibilities.  It's amazing how much we can get done when we have to!

Have you had to adjust to the first snowfall yet? 

To Have Finished

Happy New Year! Oh, I'd love to say this blog was a big end of year announcement of finishing my current WIP, but no, not quite. It will get there though. Eventually.

There's not a feeling much better than to "have written." But a close second comes from being able to say you "have finished." For nearly anything. Tasks big and small. And not nearly finished, but completely. My mother use to say to my teenage self that the dishes weren't done until all the surfaces were cleaned; counters, table, stove, etc. and the dishes put away. Only then was the job done. I can't tell you how often I dragged my heels over those last details. Why I did so, I still don't know. It's not like I was trying to prolong an enjoyable task. The only enjoyable part was to "have finished."

I was a procrastinator then and, in a large part, I'm a procrastinator now. It's always a struggle to get those last details complete. The odd thing is I will do dishes rather than work on the story. Most things wind up unfinished, and I still don't know the why - - although I've spent plenty of time thinking about it. :)

But something different happened this year. I finished my first book. I finished! Wave that checkered flag, it's done. That's a big thing for the world's best procrastinator to have the feeling of "have written" and "have finished." It is a wonderful, heedy feeling. I want it again, but it's a long time between books, even for a disciplined writer, to experience that feeling.

Just knowing the end will come, one word at a time, did give this procrastinator some food for thought though. I'm not sure if I can say it was life changing without sounding corny, but it does feel that way. Achieving a big goal is bound to have consequences. What else might I finish? Many things, if I keep moving forward. That's my goal this next year; to keep moving forward.

The end is not just possible, but inevitable, if one word follows the next.

Do you have trouble finishing? How did finishing, a book or another big accomplishment, change you?