I'm sorry I haven't written to you in over 48 hours! That's the longest I've gone since I started writing. It's not because I forgot about you, I was out at your house in Port Jeff this weekend.
Port Jeff is frozen over, Dad, you wouldn't believe it. There are piles of snow everywhere you look, some much taller than me. And ice! So much ice! I walked down to the harbor today in the bitter cold (coldest day on record put there today), and it looks like the whole Sound is frozen over. The beach is covered in ice, and the water is ice, and there is ice on the railings and big crunchy packets of ice on the ground. There were still tons of seagulls sitting out there in the Sound, but you could tell they were sort of looking around confused like "this is different somehow." Don't they get cold sitting on the ice like that?
I had so many questions I wanted to ask you when I got home, like how is the ferry still running? Is it just a big enough boat that it plows through what has got to be rather thin ice? Why did the ice on the railings freeze in this cool sideways icicle way, is it because it froze when the winds were that strong?
A few years ago I asked you why Long Island Sound was less saline than the Atlantic Ocean even though they were allegedly the same body of water (I mean, they are connected and the Sound is basically just an inlet of the Ocean. But they are totally different). You had an answer at the ready. How did you always just know things like that? I never questioned it, just assumed that was a thing that Dads did -- they knew things. Like all the answers to the random questions a six year old would ask, but when the questions were a bit more complicated and asked by a 34 year old. You always just knew the answers. And it turns out that it's not just a thing that Dads do, it was just you.
Who will I ask all my questions to now? Google? Sort of a depressing prospect.
Remember a few years ago -- I think it was December, 2010 (you would know for sure) -- when there was this huge blizzard over Christmas and Megan and I got stuck out in Port Jeff and we were all going stir crazy and me and you and her took this great walk around town and through the drive of the High School. The snow was practically up to our waists. That was a great walk, so pretty, so quiet.. Why did you stop taking walks with us?
Miss you, Dad.
love a
Port Jeff is frozen over, Dad, you wouldn't believe it. There are piles of snow everywhere you look, some much taller than me. And ice! So much ice! I walked down to the harbor today in the bitter cold (coldest day on record put there today), and it looks like the whole Sound is frozen over. The beach is covered in ice, and the water is ice, and there is ice on the railings and big crunchy packets of ice on the ground. There were still tons of seagulls sitting out there in the Sound, but you could tell they were sort of looking around confused like "this is different somehow." Don't they get cold sitting on the ice like that?
I had so many questions I wanted to ask you when I got home, like how is the ferry still running? Is it just a big enough boat that it plows through what has got to be rather thin ice? Why did the ice on the railings freeze in this cool sideways icicle way, is it because it froze when the winds were that strong?
A few years ago I asked you why Long Island Sound was less saline than the Atlantic Ocean even though they were allegedly the same body of water (I mean, they are connected and the Sound is basically just an inlet of the Ocean. But they are totally different). You had an answer at the ready. How did you always just know things like that? I never questioned it, just assumed that was a thing that Dads did -- they knew things. Like all the answers to the random questions a six year old would ask, but when the questions were a bit more complicated and asked by a 34 year old. You always just knew the answers. And it turns out that it's not just a thing that Dads do, it was just you.
Who will I ask all my questions to now? Google? Sort of a depressing prospect.
Remember a few years ago -- I think it was December, 2010 (you would know for sure) -- when there was this huge blizzard over Christmas and Megan and I got stuck out in Port Jeff and we were all going stir crazy and me and you and her took this great walk around town and through the drive of the High School. The snow was practically up to our waists. That was a great walk, so pretty, so quiet.. Why did you stop taking walks with us?
Miss you, Dad.
love a
Yes, I think that was 2010. Idriss's flight was canceled to Morocco and all that fun stuff. "Waist" not "wastes." :-)
ReplyDeleteI know! That typo is haunting me. But I can't figure out how to edit on my phone
ReplyDelete