As a small child, these words brought so much joy. Not so much in that I was missing school, but that I got to spend the day with my mother, play outside, smell the aromas of some soup, stew or roast, my mother was preparing and the idea that change for routine was upon us. The following day, I'd march into the sloppy hallways, wearing some awkward boots, change into my sneakers and life returned to normal.
As years went by, snow days meant watching my brother, digging out a car to get to work and freezing my butt off. Somehow the past still brought a smile to my face. Nowadays, I look out the window and watch plows and the angry neighbor, cursing Mother Nature and wishing for this Global Warming would act more like its namesake.
Two evenings ago, a bright moon and the already fallen snow illuminated the country road I'm on, giving me this almost Normal Rockwell moment. Pushing the drapes aside, mug in hand, cat on the bed and my nightly reading atop the nightstand. I pulled comforters up and fell asleep to the soft purr of my confidante and best friend. Knowing that despite what was going on, or about to, I had to be prepared for his day.
This morning he awoke early, Maybe anticipating some seismic shift, or more likely, awoken by the sound of salt being laid down. He meowed a little more and I attended to his needs fitting my own within his important schedule. It dawned on me that while the morning has a different feel, the day will be much like my last few. I won't get into my new definition of few, but it dawned on recently, we use the word disabled when describing the effects of large snowstorms. Have I been living a blizzard. I wish that was a metaphor, but many days it's a reality. One not noticed or acknowledged by others. Disabled, crippled, incapacitated. All extreme words to describe being "stuck" with one's family for a day. Being confined momentarily seems like such a chore, but many do nothing more on a vacation than they would on a snow day. Is it crippling to lay in bed and do nothing, when it is by choice?
So I sip my coffee, eat my fruit, two spoons of peanut butter and gaze at the cat at my feet. He's not as antsy now as he was before. His belly full, he will rest for an hour, maybe two. I will go about my day, looking for a break, a chance, an opportunity, to alleviate that which disables, cripples and incapacitates me. Physically, mentally and emotionally, or is it metaphorically, I've been preparing for this blizzard, every night when I go to sleep and each morning when I wake. Some mornings I shovel, but most i simply let it accumulate and hope for the plow.
As years went by, snow days meant watching my brother, digging out a car to get to work and freezing my butt off. Somehow the past still brought a smile to my face. Nowadays, I look out the window and watch plows and the angry neighbor, cursing Mother Nature and wishing for this Global Warming would act more like its namesake.
Two evenings ago, a bright moon and the already fallen snow illuminated the country road I'm on, giving me this almost Normal Rockwell moment. Pushing the drapes aside, mug in hand, cat on the bed and my nightly reading atop the nightstand. I pulled comforters up and fell asleep to the soft purr of my confidante and best friend. Knowing that despite what was going on, or about to, I had to be prepared for his day.
This morning he awoke early, Maybe anticipating some seismic shift, or more likely, awoken by the sound of salt being laid down. He meowed a little more and I attended to his needs fitting my own within his important schedule. It dawned on me that while the morning has a different feel, the day will be much like my last few. I won't get into my new definition of few, but it dawned on recently, we use the word disabled when describing the effects of large snowstorms. Have I been living a blizzard. I wish that was a metaphor, but many days it's a reality. One not noticed or acknowledged by others. Disabled, crippled, incapacitated. All extreme words to describe being "stuck" with one's family for a day. Being confined momentarily seems like such a chore, but many do nothing more on a vacation than they would on a snow day. Is it crippling to lay in bed and do nothing, when it is by choice?
So I sip my coffee, eat my fruit, two spoons of peanut butter and gaze at the cat at my feet. He's not as antsy now as he was before. His belly full, he will rest for an hour, maybe two. I will go about my day, looking for a break, a chance, an opportunity, to alleviate that which disables, cripples and incapacitates me. Physically, mentally and emotionally, or is it metaphorically, I've been preparing for this blizzard, every night when I go to sleep and each morning when I wake. Some mornings I shovel, but most i simply let it accumulate and hope for the plow.
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