Winter Work

How cold is cold? Since moving to Maine, my definition changed. It is often below zero F when I wake up (minus 18F last Friday!) A cold day is when it doesn’t make it into the double digits above zero. The sea water freezes. On Bailey Island you’ll find bright red starfish, purple periwinkle snails and tiny crustaceans in the summer tidal pools. Now all you’ll find is ice.

The last of the migrating birds are heading south.

The leaves are long gone, and the skies turn cold blue. Sunsets bring a warm glow.

The air burns like liquor in your throat. Your lungs constrict. It reminds me of flying in an un-pressurized plane over Mt. Denali’s glacier in Alaska. It could be colder.

To keep warm, you have to move. I ski the dog from my backdoor into the woods. We abandon the front door and hire someone to plow our driveway. The kids desert the tree house and hollow a snow fort in the driveway pile. Only the mudroom deck and short walkway need shoveling.

On the streets the plowed snow banks grow too high. A truck-come-snow blower munches the banks and spits snow into a dump truck. A mini plow carves out the sidewalks. Snow removal is never the incapacitating problem it is in Boston or in NYC. Winter is easier if harsher in Maine. Luckily my commute is only steps away.

My home office couldn’t be better. My brother, the architect, designed the space for me around my dream desk. The Shaker style is native to Maine although the cherry desk was made in Vermont. I have a separate computer stand, but I like to edit my novel drafts on paper with a pen.

The two other important writing tools are a cup of tea and a dog. My favorite mug is one of two that matches a now broken tea pot that was a wedding gift (Elizabeth at About New York has a post on favorite tea mugs.) I drink PG Tips in the morning and Red Bush in the afternoon. The chair is an antique that my husband received for his 21st birthday. He shipped it over to the USA when he moved here from London. It made the passage safely, but I stole it.

The drawings on the walls are mine. I used to work from live models in charcoal and in oil before I moved to Maine. Now I paint watercolors from nature in the summer. My studio is the great outdoors. One day I’d like to get back to oil painting, using the watercolors as on-site sketches.

Cedar Beach, Bailey Island in July

There is no room for an easel, but otherwise my office accommodates my dual careers. I store my art supplies and books in deep shelves. It’s not custom cabinetry. Look closer. It’s more affordable kitchen cabinetry with a cherry veneer backing to make it look like an office. I like that my space is small enough that I can’t clutter it with piles of junk. It forces me to store only the stuff that I’m currently using. The desktop is usually covered with manuscript drafts and stacks of books.

Working at home, it really helps to have space to spread out without having to clear up. I can close the door to the kitchen and forget my household chores. My office gets the morning light and is on its own heat zone so the rest of the house can stay cool. From my window I can greet visitors. It’s my command and control center. I’m lucky to have a space to call my own.

Even with a warm office, “winter work” starts to sound like an oxymoron. There are snow days and sick days. My first full work week in January, my daughter was home with Strep. Sometimes the work is just surviving winter, or at least the coldest days. As the days get longer, my energy increases. The bright sun, the cloudless blue skies and the pure white snow are almost worth the chill. If I don’t have time to write, I at least think about new chapters. I’m still making progress.

Best cure for winter blues was the inauguration of our new president yesterday.  Barack Obama offered hope but no quick cures.  His sincerity and eloquence were a welcome change.  I can't imagine there were many dry eyes.  Obama will be working hard this winter in his new office.  

Blog Watch: Authors Patricia Wood, Cynthia Lord and Jane Green have all blogged about their workspaces. Pat used to write in the galley before claiming her own space on board her sailboat.   Despite having a home office, Jane prefers to write her novels at the public library or in coffee shops. Cindy also used to write in a library, at Bowdoin College, before she got an office shed.  Blogger Bee Drunken shows her antique desk in her sidebar.

What is your work/blog space like?