Snowbound

Nothing says, "pause and reflect" like 20 or more inches of fresh snow. Every door of the house is blocked by snow, and I'm in no rush to change that.
January slipped past us going 100 mph. The last day that was normal was the 10th - and then we took off on a bizarre roller-coaster of a family crisis. How very appropriate that Mother Nature would supply me with this opportunity to stop, recharge, and search for a new normal.

There have been a few times when huge snowfalls have blessed me in this same way.

Once, there was a painful holiday season when snow took away any decisions, leaving me and Molly to sip cocoa and watch old movies together.

Enough snow takes away our feelings of "should".

This is definitely such a snowfall.

The magazines were wafer-sealed yesterday, awaiting address labels that I'll get to on Monday for an early morning Tuesday mailing.

Piles of laundry from the aforementioned January are folded and put away.

Larders were well stocked before the storm, and as long as the cat doesn't go on an eating binge, we're all set.

I dug out a tablecloth that my mother and I started embroidering in the late 70's, and started work on it again. It may get done in this new decade (and millenium!).

Light reading - The Darwin Awards in paperback. Heh.

Maybe some writing.

Maybe some naps.

The thick soft blanket of snow has tucked me in. I am grateful.