the raging wind and the snow is no match for our tiny cabin, with plastic on the windows held on by mostly stickum. i've been using cardboard and thumbtacks to hold down the one that rages the most, but downstairs there's actually one that whistles. the teenager doesn't mind; he's delighted that he has headphones, and that now we'll open this enormous door in the back room that leads down to the basement, so he doesn't have to go outside to come up and get something to eat. his hunger is the only thing that drives him out of his cave; the heat is ok, and he has a puppy down there to keep him company.

up here the wind howls and rages and the snow swirls around. there was about five or six inches of it, and i couldn't get the car up the last hill, when i went out for fried chicken and milk and water. i also got the mail and some more thumbtacks. not going out again. car is parked down by the library, where it'll be fine until someone plows. there was just too much snow, and not enough car, there, when i was trying to get back. let the snows rage all over everything, and i'll try to get it back in the morning.

meanwhile we've been keeping our eyes on the women's marches nationwide, worldwide, mostly through facebook. i have friends at a number of them: about half a dozen in washington, a dozen or more in carbondale, new orleans, vegas, eugene, des moines. lots of friends at lots of marches. and they all have better weather than we do. my sister, who attended one in las cruces, said they got a thousand, and wondered what we were doing up here (our town only has about a thousand, and that's on a good day). nothing that i know of. i can't imagine anyone standing outside for a minute longer than they'd have to. it's raging, and blowing, and piling up, and raging some more.

an old mexican gentleman knocked on our door to tell us that the car door was open; on the street side, the side door had come open and was just collecting blizzard. i trudged up there on snow-filled steps - they are not in good shape - and he was right. the blizzard surrounded me. our own fence was not in good repair. now i'm back and by the fire, watching dark clouds and beyond, the sun shining on the white sands. my wife is reading the weather. only travel in an emergency. up to a foot in mountain areas. wind and bad visibility.

this is the day my mother died (january 21) a year ago, and though i'm not too big on anniversaries, it was a hard one to miss. a good day to wear gray, stay home, feed the fire. facebook popped up with her right away this morning; i've never been a big fan of facebook's reminding me of things i already knew. i called my dad and sister. my sister was at my dad's, taking care of him, but she was going for marches too, as it seems everyone was, all day, all over the world. everyone except us, snowed in & homebound, listening to the wind.

then, i should just be working on my writing, right? well, i should, but instead i made a movie. i've been playing with these pop-art style picture makers and just wanted to do a few dozen about the protests. unfortunately the only song i actually had, that i could put them to, was a bluegrass one made by my own band. they would surely disapprove, my using their music to make a protest video, so i stopped short of publishing it, or even showing it to anyone except my wife. and i kind of felt, that was enough, that was ok, it wasn't quite finished yet anyway, and didn't quite go with bluegrass anyway. there's a better song - might be on another computer - and i think i own it, and could use it, but it would be hard to get and transport. so i feed the fire. i've come to a point where i want to relax.

and, finally, my dad tipped me off about what's happening in leverett glacier, in antarctica. we all follow virtually everything that has anything to do with leverett, just as a matter of principal, so when leverett glacier becomes a thing, well, that's news we want to share with each other. so leverett glacier feeds into the ross ice shelf, and that's important, why, because maybe you can drive on the ross ice shelf, or at least you can get to the leverett glacier pretty easily. and once you do, that's the shortest path to the south pole. so in the race to get to the south pole fastest, those people who have chosen the 'leverett glacier route' are having and advantage, and it's big, it's a thing, it's a place where people are going.

it's a good thing to think about, on this winter-storm day, wind howling, snow blowing around like crazy. i'm glad i'm not walking to the south pole. out in the mud room, wet boots, snow suits, naked barbies, sticks, dog dish. beyond that, the wind and snow, blowing like crazy.