Thermal Writing

our snowed-in car

The notes I handle no better than many pianists. But the pauses between the notes — ah, that is where the art resides. ~ Artur Schnabel

It’s snowing here in Scotland today – again – but the glow of gratitude I got from last week’s glimpse of spring and from welcoming friendly faces back to my blog has kept me thawed and glowing inside. The snow has already blocked roads, and my daughter’s long awaited dental appointment has had to be cancelled. But it’s all happening for a reason. I’ve no idea what that reason is, but it’s at times like these I play a toned down adult version of Pollyanna’s ‘glad game’, looking for the blessings in what seem like bummers.

  • The snow has given me the excuse to stay in and post a few photos of the freak weather from December and January that had us snowbound.
  • My article in The Kitchen Table Space last month describes a snowy day a few years ago when I actually loved being snowed in. If you haven’t rooted around in my archives or downloaded my free ebook, this old article is one of my favourites, a perfect tonic if your heart feels snowbound or you need a boost to get some spring cleaning done.
  • I was at a funeral yesterday, supporting my dad. It was pretty bleak, and even though there were uplifting life lessons in it for me, I’m glad it snowed today and not yesterday. It wasn’t a place I’d like to be snowbound in.
  • I’m feeling happy that I celebrated the sun and the stirrings of spring last week when I had the chance. I could so easily have missed them and the inspiration they brought.
  • The snow back in December and January was so heavy and prolonged, today’s snowfall seems somehow manageable. (That’s our car in the photo above.)
  • One day’s snow doesn’t create lethal iciclesicicles!

Writing about spring feels like a talisman, one that’s kept today’s bout of bleak weather from blowing my wee blogging boat off course as I tentatively start to sail set sail again.

This isn’t what I planned to post today, but what do you know…I now have some posts in reserve! Going with the flow hasn’t brought the sky crashing down on my head, either.


Does your writing ever act as a talisman to warm your heart? What  – if anything – do you use it to ward off?


    1. I’m with you there, Maya. Even though I eventually can go stir crazy, I prefer to stay warm and cosy inside. Maybe it’s because a friend of mine died in her car during bad weather and left three young boys behind, but it’s more likely to be that I have such freezing cold hands and feet at the best of times that I need Arctic strength gloves and can’t even stick on snowmen carrot noses!

  1. It’s an odd year for snow. We usually get a lot more here, but my aunt in Texas is getting record breaking amounts, our East Coast was nailed by two snow storms, and you have lots, too. Send. It. My. Way!

    Writing for me seems to revolve around telling and teaching more than talismans. I wish you bright, warm days ahead!
    .-= Lori Hoeck´s last blog ..Mindset in self defense is crucial to victory =-.

    1. Thank you Lori. Anytime you feel like a dose of picturesque Scottish snow and ice and a break from your caretaking (if you can have a break) drop me an email and come visit on your Scottish tour.

  2. I’m drawn in to ‘the character’ of your first photo and enjoyed looking longer than I usually do (especially online). I thought “off to the photo contests” when I saw the icicles image!

    Thank you for your version of the “glad game,” dear Janice, a refreshing spin on counting one’s blessings.

    1. Thanks Connie. I have a whole series of photos of those icicles. I usually break them all off so they don’t impale anyone, but I left these ones because they fascinated me. One of the composite parts of my recent sadness is that since taking the snow photos, I dropped my adored camera on our new wooden floor and broke the screen. It would have bounced on the old floor covering. I know it’s all meant, but I’m still trying to hone in on what the message is. It’s quite distressing that I’m getting such urgent synchronicity signals to disconnect me from the digital: a laptop crash, the TV losing its signal during the snow days, my blog alerts disappearing and then us losing the index file of my other website. But it’ll all be fine; it always is.

  3. When you don’t have to go out in the snow it has a comforting, silencing effect I find. And the freshly covered trees are a photographer’s delight. My sisters and I looked forward to the snowstorms because we lived in the boonies and very often the school bus couldn’t get through and we’d miss school. We’ve had one light snowfall in the city this year. Quite different from last year.
    .-= Davina´s last blog ..Getting Sensual with Creativity =-.

    1. I’d love to read some of your stories from your time in the boonies. I love that word, even though I’d struggle to explain what it really means!

  4. Thank you Maya, Lori, Connie, and Davina. Instead of responding right away, I’m going to try and upload some photos I took today into a new post. If the glow kept the snow blues at bay yesterday, I need to do some talismanic (made-up word, I suspect 😉 ) writing today…
    .-= janice´s last blog ..Thermal Writing =-.

  5. My writing has been a talisman, but I have neglected it and so it has lost its ‘power’.

    Time to recharge it. Thanks my wee Celtic friend 🙂

    1. You’re very welcome! All it needs is some buffing up and cherishing; the power’s still there! (So put that glass of wine down and get going 😉 )

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