The quiet is striking. There isn’t a sound (full disclosure, a neighbor had a service come and snow blow her driveway, so that’s what woke me up, but now they’re gone). I can’t see to the end of my street. It’s my favorite color: white. Everywhere you look, in fact, is white.
Apparently we’ve been downgraded from snowmageddon to like snow-half-marathon, but it still looks like a couple feet out there and it’s continuing to come down hard, so who knows. My biggest problem is clearing a place for Riley to do his, you know thing, out there. That little guy is going to drown in this amount of snow. I’m hoping he will sleep until Peter gets up can do a little makeshift outhouse.
There isn’t any school for two days! Mid-terms, much to my daughter’s delight, had to be all sorts of rescheduled. I am taunting my son: #stuffucantgetincali.
As for me, I will be making a vegetable soup, binge watching The Wire, and hopefully, because we all fell asleep at 9:30 last night (so I hope it’s on ON DEMAND), a PBS special called A Path Appears about the struggles women face here and abroad and the people who work with them to make a difference.
This is the only time I like snow. A big, crazy storm, when people are forced by nature to slow down and settle. I won’t like the aftermath tomorrow, when I will be inconvenienced, but for today, I’m grateful to be safe, warm, and with my family. Juno, Shmuno. I’ll take it.