My Snow Day
A snow day.
And for a good two hours I forgot I was in New Jersey.
My parents and I got "lost" somewhere out in Monroe and Manalapan.
or MANA-lapan if you're a news anchor.
First we got a wreath and other decorations at Gasko's Family Farm and Greenhouses, Monroe.
They have so much land. And so many poinsettias. It was insane. They must have had a thousand, no joke.
I spent some time trudging around in snow. For some reason, we went to two obscure tree farms.
We didn't get a tree. We're all too fussy and can't agree on one. One tree farm was the Ann-Ellen Farm.
Ann-Ellen had sheep, and I wondered if she was going to burst out of the cottage with a double barrel shotgun.
"Why the hell didn't you buy my $75 dollar Scottish Pine, you bastards?" Ann would scream.
And then she'd shoot the car as we tore up the gravel in a desperate escape.
That's how it played out in my mind. It was scary.
I had a weird dream once where this guy said to me, "The only way to true happiness is to be one with nature."
And after some time outdoors in fresh air, my mom asked me if I was on drugs because I looked so happy.
Cold, wet, and too tired to know it.
Yes, I am transformed under a blue sky.
Let the wind blow through my hair which grows out of my Norweigan head.
The misleading snow is a giant puddle and the river runs with clay, dirt, and rocks.
I step in it all. Maybe on purpose. I sludge through it.
The damp socks. The mud encrusted jean cuffs.
All these years, I've taken them for granted.
And for a good two hours I forgot I was in New Jersey.
My parents and I got "lost" somewhere out in Monroe and Manalapan.
or MANA-lapan if you're a news anchor.
First we got a wreath and other decorations at Gasko's Family Farm and Greenhouses, Monroe.
They have so much land. And so many poinsettias. It was insane. They must have had a thousand, no joke.
I spent some time trudging around in snow. For some reason, we went to two obscure tree farms.
We didn't get a tree. We're all too fussy and can't agree on one. One tree farm was the Ann-Ellen Farm.
Ann-Ellen had sheep, and I wondered if she was going to burst out of the cottage with a double barrel shotgun.
"Why the hell didn't you buy my $75 dollar Scottish Pine, you bastards?" Ann would scream.
And then she'd shoot the car as we tore up the gravel in a desperate escape.
That's how it played out in my mind. It was scary.
I had a weird dream once where this guy said to me, "The only way to true happiness is to be one with nature."
And after some time outdoors in fresh air, my mom asked me if I was on drugs because I looked so happy.
Cold, wet, and too tired to know it.
Yes, I am transformed under a blue sky.
Let the wind blow through my hair which grows out of my Norweigan head.
The misleading snow is a giant puddle and the river runs with clay, dirt, and rocks.
I step in it all. Maybe on purpose. I sludge through it.
The damp socks. The mud encrusted jean cuffs.
All these years, I've taken them for granted.