So much happs, Dear Reader, where to start? 

With snow of course. This week’s unexpected dumping was the usual: exciting, beautiful, good for some, bad for others, a source of pre-storm grocery store pandemonium, and a ton of work. Those that made it to the Maple Open House Weekend during the prior storm had a gas. People got there by foot, snowshoe, truck, or with snow tires still on their car. Yo, don’t try to keep us from our maple, Mother Nature.

A local plowing guy casually tossed off, in passing, how his rig had gone sliding sideways down a road, with him at the wheel. This reminded me of when snowboarding was brand new. My friend Harry and I were on skis at Okemo and a posse of young snowboarders flew around and past us, wicked close, like paparazzi. One ran over my skis. “Sorry,” he murmured. Harry said, “Ann, I just saw your whole life flash before my eyes.”

So I asked the plow guy if his life had flashed before his eyes. He replied, “No. I spend a lot of time in this truck. I pretty much know what it can do.” And if that’s not a Vermonty sentiment, I don’t know what is.

Because I got snowed in with shoveling to do, I had time to question the usefulness of my sad old bod, which used to shovel snow like a human windmill. Those days are gone, alas. Aging in Vermont is not easy. But then, living here offers basically a free gym membership, so there’s that.  We take the good with the bad.

Post-storm sun on the sparkling blanket of white cheers us greatly. Articles in The Atlantic and elsewhere are asking why everyone seems so down lately, when statistics are solid in the US in terms of unemployment, the stock market, interest rates, and many changes under way for the general good. One answer is that we’re all unaware of how badly COVID affected us. And as a local merchant put it, “There seems to be a general sense of malaise. I’m not young and I feel like I lost two years of my life to COVID. Plus, people started treating each other badly before that whole mess, and haven’t reverted back to good manners.” 

I couldn’t agree more. My grandparents would be appalled at the way people speak to workers in stores and restaurants, to customer service on the phone, to their neighbors, teachers, employees, bosses—you name it. 

A friend blamed social media, calling it “antisocial media.” Which is a disgrace. At times it’s like a virtual boxing ring with people slugging away at each other to no good end. Why? Why bother? Do you think the person you’re pounding is going to change their mind? Spit a tooth out and go, “Wait, Carol. By God, you’re right!” Do you think the like-minded spectators hanging onto the ropes, cheering you on, will think highly of you for more than the 4 seconds it takes to read your assault? I don’t get it, man.

Because I wrote a book, I have no choice but to be on Social. I just took a reprieve for a month – bliss! Back in it while snowed in, I found “doom scrolling” an utter chore. 

Except for … the reasons people went into there in the first place: video of a backcountry skier wearing a GoPro who happens upon a lone snowboarder literally buried alive, and frantically digs him out. What are the odds?! A monkey hears a trapped kitten’s cries and does its damnedest to rescue it from a drainpipe. Then lovingly grooms and hugs it! Interspecies love in all its forms: delicious. 

It’s ironic to me that a skier saves the life of a snowboarder and animals of all kinds care for each other on the same page as one Facebooker hammers away another (lit. or fig.). I guess we just have to, again, take the good with the bad.

There are at least four good reasons, in addition to The New Rudeness, why people are down. But if I list them, they will only distress Dear Reader. You know them anyway. They are why I avoid the news, beyond startling headlines that materialize on my phone. I’d much rather read Ski Chatter online and learn hilarious lingo, such as “beaver balls” and “death cookies.” I’d rather laugh than cry — or fight. Wouldn’t you? The Interweb: good and bad.

Shortly, Mud Season (“Mud VI”) kicks in anew. Just hoping everyone can make it to maple shacks and the other treasures that are the Good of mud season. I remain hopeful. As well might you? Good (with the bad) day.