All four of us are home again as the snow flies out the windows and piles up and up on rooftops and roads. The streets are all but deserted. Only those who absolutely must, go. The rest stay. The accumulating inches offer permission to just be...not do. It's such a rarity in our busy lives to feel that we've nowhere to go and nothing to do without even a little nagging guilt. That's the beauty of a snow day. That's one of the beauties of a snow day.
Tigger gets it. He just checked out the neighborhood and crawled back into bed. Lily hasn't surfaced yet. The boys are working side by side, or more like across from one another. Ted's vacation lasts another day. He made it home before bed last night after a weekend of fresh powder skiing. He's lucky the snow followed him because today he can get caught up on sleep and schoolwork. And shoveling. It's good to be Ted. He's a lucky lad who lives a charmed life.
I know myself. I'll happily putter around the house all day making meals and doing a few loads of fresh flannel sheets. I'll likely bake something too. I'll stop now and then to read a few pages of one of the three books I'm reading right now, and I'll even sit still and watch the snow fly all the while thinking about how there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
No comments:
Post a Comment