
At this point in winter, I start thinking about resilience. I think about the marathon runner who is on autopilot and who gets to the more-than-half-way point and wonders for a second, how much longer, and then the second passes, because one
can't think that way. We just have to keep going. Even if we can't really see the end in sight.
Life is good, despite the fact that the driveway needs to be shoveled, again. Life is good, because the forecast doesn't look too bad for Tom to travel to Albany today or for me to drive to Syracuse tomorrow. Matt is back to school after a week of vacation.

We are spending some free time, when not working on things like homework, lesson plans, or grad school papers, watching basketball or movies (we discovered that Matt likes Monty Python! It was fun listening to someone watch
The Holy Grail for the very first time and listening to the giggles of recognition of the jokes.) Matt's travel team has a lot of practices and games. After watching SU lose to Villanova on Sunday, we decided to last night watch a video we have of the 2003 "Odyssey to the National Championship," so we could re-live that great season in a one-hour highlight show.

Despite the wind and the snow out there, we are resilient. We try not to think about how much less "hearty" we would have to be if we lived in a place like Arizona or North Carolina. We live in the present moment, and we have optimism. That's why, even though some who read this blog also read
The Writer's Almanac for the poem of the day, I have to re-print this morning's poem. It spoke to me and is a perfect poem for this morning, as I sit typing in the quiet house, with the pitch black outside, at 5:40 a.m. Have a good day.
P.S. The photos I am including in this post are from a sunny Superbowl Sunday out at our friend John's. He lives in a beautiful spot, and I am quite fond of the trees and view of the old "barn," which he has converted into a great home for his daughter Helena right across from his house. I remember looking out at that barn from their house when John and Karen were off at the hospital having that baby, 21 years ago earlier this month, while I took care of then 2-year old Anthony, her older brother. Being out in the country in February certainly takes resilience!
Optimismby Jane Hirshfield
More and more I have come to admire resilience.
Not the simple resistance of a pillow, whose foam returns over and
over to the same shape, but the sinuous tenacity of a tree: finding the
light newly blocked on one side,
it turns in another.
A blind intelligence, true.
But out of such persistence arose turtles, rivers, mitochondria, figs—
all this resinous, unretractable earth.