I woke early the first day.  Perhaps it was the thunderous thump that shook the walls of the snow covered house; convinced a bear had hurtled through the downstairs window, I sprang up and searched the house for disturbance.  Finding none, I instinctively checked on my son; although 13, I still follow my maternal tug for ensuring he’s still breathing.

Uncovered and in 55 degrees, he must have thrown himself against the wall searching for warmth.  I kissed his forehead, pulled the flannel-encased down comforter back over his long body, and quietly closed the door.

The downstairs was dark and quiet,  the glow of the porch light hitting the snow providing the only illumination.  Quietly, I began to greet the new year with candle and coffee, journal and thoughts.

It wasn’t enough.  I”m approaching the fifth day of being stuck on the couch, felled with the teacher’s curse of sickness on vacation.  Self-pity set in.  Frustration.  Disappointment.  Lonliness.  Blame.  Pessimism.  Despair.

This is not the way to spend New Year’s morning.  Yet, I just couldn’t feel it-the optimism I knew everyone else was waking up with..

Mired in my thoughts, I glanced out the window for direction.  The sun, beginning to glow through the trees, tempted me.  I should walk to the lake, but it’s 5 degrees outside.  Maybe tomorrow.  Maybe next weekend.  There’s always another sunrise.

Turning to Facebook, I stumbled on Susan Tweit’s essay, Learning Forgiveness, and this quote about her dog, Isis:

“ Still, Isis was simply happy: to be in the world, to take walks and eat three meals a day, to snooze on her cozy bed. Her friendly good nature was so obvious that her beauty, not the scars she would carry for life, was the first thing people noticed when they met her.”

I need to be the person my dog thinks I am.  I need to walk out the door.

Tahoe Park Blvd.

My snow boots crunched on the icy road as I cautiously made my way down to the lake.  Simple tributes to children’s joy caught my eye, and reminded me of my own son, who had spent the dusk hours of New Years Eve tumbling around in the snow alone, creating his own happiness.

I knew what I would see: the sun was up, the sky blue.  I’d already missed the dawn, I chided myself.  I’ve greeted nearly 27 new years here.  The snow still kept the gate ajar.  The path still offered entrance, although showed signs of many travelers in the last few days.

But I was wrong.  As I crossed the slight knoll, the lake appeared unlike I’ve ever seen it-at first, I thought I was dreaming.  The mist swirled over the buoys like a magical cauldron  the waves lapped rhythmically, despite not a breath of wind.  And it was silent.

To experience this with me, watch the video:

I was alone, but what beauty, what strength, what power was before me.  No one else was witness to this spectacle, only me, only because I walked through the door.

I let go.   Fresh energy pumped through me.  I can start anew.  Today.  I leaned forward, let go of the past, and forgave myself in the image of the rising sun.

And it felt glorious.

Tahoe Park on Dwellable

Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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I always have a bit of a holiday let down.  December is a big month for me: the start of ski season, my birthday, and of course, Christmas.  Add in teaching junior high during this month full of expectation, and by the time Dec. 31 rolls around, I’m done.

In other words, I’m not a big New Year’s Eve fan.

I think the last time I actually went to a big New Year’s Eve party was in 1995 when I was pregnant with my first child.

I remember the millenium, taking down the Christmas decorations while the news blasted from my 9-inch black and white tv.  I remember it well.  Then, I had a three-year-old daughter AND a three-month old son.  Fun times.

Needless to say, this New Year’s Eve I don’t anticipate much action, other than dinner with my now thirteen-year-old son, some quiet reflection time, maybe a cold beer, and, of course, some writing.

What I’ve also learned this year is that if I flip the holidays around, they don’t have to bring me down.  In fact, I’ve learned that a few things about the holidays never go out of season, they instead are cultivated all year long:

Holiday Spirit

This year we simplified the holidays.  We cut back to the most important and meaningful traditions, and enjoyed the spirit behind the season.  My daughter noted that there wasn’t a day when we didn’t have holiday music playing in the background.  We didn’t miss a chance to sing along with “Feliz Navidad” or Taylor Swift’s “Sounds of the Season”.  I learned that  holiday spirit alive doesn’t mean leaving up the Christmas tree until spring; rather, embracing the simple, the fun, and the merry all year long is the route to happiness.

Getting Back to Roots

As a parent, I feel obligated to put my children first.  Always.  The holiday season cements these feelings – isn’t Christmas ‘for the kids’ anyways?  No, I don’t consider myself a martyr, but rather, I see parenting as a huge commitment. And in order to do it ‘right’, I need to take it seriously.  However, in 2012, I realized that I can take myself seriously, too.  I’ve wanted to write professionally since I can remember.  I studied English during college, and once I graduated, my writing stayed hidden inside journals.  This year I learned that getting back to my roots meant taking a chance and being vulnerable.   Last year, writing brought passion back to my life, along with courage, happiness, sadness, and stories, too.

Generosity

 This year I adored watching my children plan and purchase their gifts for others.  With the innocence of children, they worked hard to find just the right gift for just the right person.  Listening to them exclaim that they ‘cannot wait for me to open it’ made my heart beam.  And despite all the tragedy of Sandy Hook, we learned that we can pay it forward.  As my son and I participated in #26Acts, he declared it ‘awesome-just like a treasure hunt’ except in reverse.  We didn’t finish all 26 by Christmas, but that’s more than ok;  as we give freely in 2013, we hope others will be inspired to freely give.

Good Friends

I actually didn’t attend one holiday party this year.  I prefer to keep it quiet, keep it simple, and keep it at home.  So much of our lives is spent out in public that for me, the holiday season is a perfect time to spend with family.  That’s not to say that good friends aren’t part of our equation, but simply, in a different, more personal way.  I still send Christmas cards, and rejoice with each envelope that comes through our  mailbox.  In 2012 my list of friends grew in ways I could never have predicted; I met teachers from all over the country, new friends in Indonesia, and grew to know writers online from around the world.  Good friends aren’t just honored during the holidays, they are nurtured all year long.

So I wish you all a happy and healthy 2013, the comfort of family and friends, and the courage to do what you never thought you could.

I’ll drink to that!

Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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I spend huge amounts of time in the snow.  I mean HUGE.  More than normal people; well,  people who don’t actually LIVE in the snow.

Last weekend, my trip to the snow started like this: left work at lunch,  loaded the car, started up some Taylor Swift on the iPod, and drove off in the early afternoon.

Everything started off really well.  Driving up the hill, leaving the valley fog behind, we were making progress.  Only five hours to Mammoth-no problem before dark.

We even had time to pull off the road and load up on caffeine – it was BOGO Christmas drinks, after all!

This is what a trip to the snow should look like, right?

 As we drove uphill, things went downhill.  Fast.

Momentarily switching on the radio, we heard the news about Newtown.  Tears.  Shock.  Horror.

Then it started to rain.  Not good.  The Prius is a lot of things, but it is definitely not a snow car.

We checked the weather channel app – if we hurried, we’d make it over the pass and into Nevada.  It would be smooth sailing after that.

Looks pretty, right?  It was.  Lily quickly  grabbed the camera while Taylor boomed through the speakers.  So cheery.  A white Christmas?

Not so fast.  Chains ahead.

Highway 50 isn’t called the ‘loneliest highway in the US’ for nothing.  There were NO services, so I had to suck it up and bundle up.  My daughter was watching.  There was no one else who could do it.

Don’t be fooled by the smile on my face.  It was all for the camera.  Inside, I was starting to panic.  Prius in the snow is not my favorite mode of travel.

My spirits were elevated when the CalTrans chain inspectors, amazed that I did it all by myself, fist-bumped me and sent me over the pass.  It was only 12 miles-we could do it.  It was  only 4:00, and with a three-hour drive in front of us, I wasn’t too worried.

Forgoing our usual shortcut, we opted for the pass over into the Nevada desert.  I ditched the chains – again, all by myself, and as snow turned to rain, I thought we were clear.

Damn Weather Channel app.

What looked clear actually became snow.  Lots and lots of snow.  But it was flat, and as we passed through Bridgeport behind schedule, I felt nervous but confident we could make it.

Compared to 50, Highway 395 is desolate.  Flat and decorated with gorgeous rock formations and rivers, I usually enjoy the drive.  But at this point it was getting dark, I was tired, and there was snow hovering way too close to the six-inch clearance of the Prius.

Suddenly, we saw it: the one and only traffic alert sign, pronouncing our need for chains.  Now.

And like a beacon in the night, the Big Sky Motel appeared, equipped with a large floodlight.  It was the only light on the road besides mine, so I quickly pulled into the parking lot and prepared myself.

Like a scene from Psycho, the motel door opened and a grizzled, shaggy man sauntered out in his sweatpants, with an equally scraggly dog following behind him.

“Want a room?  Only $69,” he croaked.  I smelled something – he must have been enjoying himself in the motel lobby.

Although I desperately wanted to say yes, I declined, but when he offered to help with the chains I jumped on it.

Ten minutes later, we were off.  Until the chains broke.  In the dark.

At this point, I felt like Wonder Woman.  Faster than she could spin into her costume, I jumped out and pulled those suckers off.  I was muddy, exhausted, and determined to make it before dawn.

We did.

This is the next morning, enjoying coffee in our favorite funky coffee joint, Stellar Brew.

And this view…what a reward.

She didn’t even mind spending the afternoon in the motel room, studying for finals.

And despite the struggle, the frustrations, and the hours and hours of driving – not to mention the ski race that was canceled, we ended up with a white Christmas after all.  And a whole bunch of memories, too.

Mammoth Lakes on Dwellable

Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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For me, gardening is a respite from the stresses of every day.  I love having a big, open garden to spend hours in, but have often wodnered what I would do if I had to move to a space without all this dirt to dig!  Today’s guest blogger, Jolissa, answers some of my questions with her thoughts on rooftop gardens – enjoy!

In today’s world, a lot of us are concerned about being green. We do what we can to be a little bit more Earth-friendly, and we support those who are helping us to lessen our carbon footprints. One of the ways that people enjoy being Earth-friendly is gardening. There are many ways that gardens benefit our planet, and they can be fun!

There’s only one problem with gardening: cities. City folks like gardening, but it’s often impossible. Cities often have many green areas or parks, but you can’t exactly go start a garden in one of them. So, what can green-thumbed city dwellers do? Beyond planting small plants in pots and setting them by windows, a new answer has started popping up in cities everywhere: Put gardens on roofs!

A Myriad of Purposes

Rooftop gardens are sometimes a perfect solution for those who would love to garden but live in the city. They’re popping up everywhere in cities like Minneapolis, MN and Chicago, IL. They come in all sizes, and they’re used for different purposes. Some are just grass, tress, and small shrubs or flowers, and are used as a sort of rooftop park. Others function like vegetable gardens, and edible things are grown. Still others are flower gardens, with stone paths through beautiful flower bushes and shrubs. No matter their makeup, they’re all meant to be oases in the city, and they all provide some environmentally pleasing benefits.

A Positive Impact

Beyond lifting the spirits of those walking in them, rooftop gardens make several positive impacts on the environment.

1. Air fresheners – Trees and plants take in carbon dioxide, filter it, and release it as oxygen. While you may think that just one green area in a couple square miles of city doesn’t do much, every little bit counts!
2. Heat island reducers – Cities are often a couple degrees hotter than the surrounding countryside, because of the amount of paved (dark) space that attracts the sun’s rays. Adding parks and rooftop gardens wherever possible helps reduce this effect, as they reflect some of the heat while using some of it as energy. At the same time, they help cool the space around them via evaporation and shading.
3. Building energy efficiency – Putting a garden on a rooftop can increase the energy efficiency of the building itself. During the summer, the garden will reflect sunlight and shade the roof, keeping the inside of the building from getting as warm and needing as much air conditioning. During the winter, the garden can act as insulation, keeping heating costs down.
4. Clean water – Rooftop gardens will absorb some rainwater, keeping it from running over the dirty roof and becoming polluted before falling into the sewers. When the dirt can’t hold any more water, the water will begin filtering through and becoming clean. The clean runoff could be collected and used for later watering or cleaning inside the building.
5. Good eating – Vegetables, herbs, and some fruits can all be grown in rooftop gardens. Especially if there’s a restaurant or kitchen within the building, this can be incredibly useful. Or, if it’s an apartment building, residents could share what they grow together. There are also plenty of charities that would love some fresh veggies!

How do I begin?

Not every roof is suitable for a rooftop garden. Not only does it need to be flat and have easy access, but it needs to be able to stand the weight of adding dirt, vegetation, and people. For instructions and tips for creating a rooftop garden, search the web for rooftop garden advice and professionals near you. You’ll need to chat with a contractor or architect before constructing a garden, to make sure your roof is structurally suitable.

Citations:

• Photo Courtesy of digitizedchaos via Flickr

Jolissa D. writes for Shingobee Builders, a nationally recognized commercial construction company that uses green initiatives to create energy-efficient solutions for buildings.

Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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