It arrived. Finally. Nearly a foot of the white stuff.
And it was beautiful (!) for an hour or two or even three before reality — being the necessity of shoveling and the mess of soggy snowboots and wet mittens drying by the back door — set in. Honestly, I wish I'd gone sledding or something to extend the appreciation, and to delay the shoveling, but I would have felt pretty silly doing so without kids in tow.
Also, I didn't want to get hurt.
Ah, age.
Speaking of which, Mr. Betty and I went to the movies last night. We walked down the hill to the Pickens, where they're showing a series of classics (once a month, on Sundays) at the historic venue which started as a church. Last night's selection was "Sunset Boulevard," which we thoroughly enjoyed (especially the circa 1950 fashions and cars) except for the line toward the end where the strapping young writer lashes out at the aging starlet with the words: "You're a 50 year old woman! There's nothing wrong with being 50. Unless you're trying to be 25."
Here's what he actually said (I just looked it up): "Norma, you're a woman of 50, now grow up. There's nothing tragic about being 50, not unless you try to be 25."
I happen to be 50, so I wanted to get it right ...
And that leads straight to the painful reality of walking along once-snowy-now-slushy sidewalks to "A" Market for a cup of coffee, just a few minutes ago, and encountering an old (older than I, anyway) friend at the checkout.
I said, "Hi, how are you?"
He said, "I'm not doing too well, thanks."
Then he turned in my direction, and I saw that his lip was a swollen, bloody, stitched-up mess. He'd slipped on the ice, apparently. The result was ugly.
In spite of that, and maybe even because of that — i.e., even beautiful things involve risks & realities, and we're all going to get hurt (and old) at some point — I think I'll go sledding later.
At least I'll go watch ...
Note of explanation: Another trip downhill (during the storm) led me to Aquidneck Lobster, beside which lies "Janet" and inside which lies an assortment of fresh fish. Even in winter.
