To be able to laze around and watch it snow, even on a weekend, is such a treat. You can drift into naps, feeling wonderfully warm under the blankets, wake up and roll over, look out at the snow, then decide that nothing is really so pressing afetr all and turn over and go back to sleep.
Then it keeps snowing all night and it's still snowing when you wake up in the morning, and it feels like it's been snowing forever. You look outside and nothing is moving but the snow blowing by . . . flip to the news channel for the obligatory footage of stuck cars and snowplows . . . the voice drones on about flight delays and cancellations . . . it's perversely soothing and your eyes close . . .
Eventually you drag yourself out of bed, root aorund for some comfort food, and think about casseroles and stews and other long-cooking wonderful smelling things filling the house with their aromas. It's a day to be warm, try on everything you never wear but for some reason hold on to, paint your toenails then decide it's terrible and do it all over again. It's a day to be indulgent and comfortable and feel good and sexy about being so.
A snowy weekend. Nature's remedy for normal life.
1 comment:
I love those type of days. Can't say I get *snow* days down here in the south, but I sure do see some awesome thunderstorms.
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