The amount of
snow
was unexpected. The bus driver told the love gals to tell your mom if you don’t go to school it’s okay; it won’t be counted against you. Yep, she cancelled school for the day. Only her own daughter was on the bus. The mommas around here don’t raise fools! The
snow
started at the wrong time tis morning for the bus runs.
A friend is visiting, helping with the attic renovations; our daughter and granddaughter came by for lunch, naps and TV.
Restful quiet accompanied the morning coffee. Lunch was
comfort food of cheese bacon potato soup.
I reorganized the freezer. I did not know I had 3 steaks in there! It has been a happy day.
I caught up on stuff, sort of. The
snow
is still falling off and on, mostly on. The roads are clear enough for pizza delivery. There is no Wednesday night church. The guys are still in the attic. They even got to go to Home Depot! They came back with a saw. It was a very productive trip.
I’m reading Spiritual Rhythm by Mark Buchanan. I haven’t finished it yet. He uses season of the annual cycle of time to set the stage. The first is
winter.
Winter,
a time of reflection and maybe death.
I do look forward to spring. The freshness of new starts is more reflective of where I am now. More that a few weeks ago I would have said
winter.
Loss of a home and a work that engaged our hearts for 13 years. Loss of friends near by. That’s a move! Slowly I am moving into the fresh start part, the spring…strengthening old friendships, make new ones, a new semester of Bible study with peers and with intergenerational women. A new attic courtesy of our son who wants to finish it off, simply. A new attic with a reading window seat for Love Bug to curl up on uninterrupted. Does she know about Jo? She did see the movie a long time ago, guess it made an impression. I have told her about playing in my own childhood attic. We both love the solitude of reading.
Today, as I sit looking out the window, once again I am thrilled with the
beauty of the snow
that hems us in. Forcing us to focus on tasks laid aside, on fun with each other. I don’t feel forced, I feel blessed as I eat some left over soup from a favorite mug listening to the humming of vacuum, low voices in conversation, enjoying this
lazy hazy day of winter.
It’s dusk and the
snow
is blowing in, thick and at an angle. Maybe tomorrow, we’ll have another
lazy hazy day of winter!
Bushel and a Pickle 