There’s about a foot of fluffy white stuff outside right now, having arrived in glory on Wednesday night. I knew it was deep Thursday morning when I looked out my window. My usual measure of “deep” is when I can’t see my raised beds in the back yard. They had indeed been rendered invisible, and remain so. But I was intrepid and forged a path to my van and then out of the driveway. Of course, back in again took a fair lot of shovelling, but I can live with that. And it’s cold. I knew it was interesting when the predicted low for today was 11 F., and the actual temperature was zero. Bleah. Phooey. Stay inside and bake!
But it’s still lovely to look at, if a bit on the bitter side for walking in. And inside we’re warm and safe and reasonably well. Small Joseph is enchanted with an inflatable globe, especially since I pointed out roughly where we live to him on it. He’s beginning to get the idea that we live on a planet, and that big as it is, it’s still finite. I much prefer that to his watching the holiday specials on Cartoon Network, though some of them were funny. And so was my son…hearing a character say that Christmas was Jesus’ birthday, he turned around and said “No, Mommy. It’s Santa’s birthday. That’s why he brings presents!” Yes, for so long as he believes Santa is real, for so long will there be a little heap of things under the dining room table. (No tree, of course)
But all in all, I think that’s what today has been. A present from Santa, a day other people are observing and we are not, but on which I could not be obligated to go out or go to the grocery or talk to other attorneys or the mortgage company plaguing my client, not because it’s a weekend but because there is no one there and everything is closed. Sometimes, having the world turn off for a day is the greatest gift possible.