There's icy and then there's icy. There's cold and then there's cold. Today was "then there's icy," next week it will be "then there's cold." What we need is a snowfall in between, to cover up the icy fields of what some would call snow. Only the brave would venture out to ski in what we have there now.
By 11 in the morning I quit waiting for Ed to wake up. Put him outside on skis and he turns into a winter bear afterwards. Me, I have to be up because I could only get a grocery delivery before sunrise. That's okay. I let the radio fill the kitchen with music and settle in to the last piece of Christmas panettone.
By the time Ed drags himself downstairs, we have little time left for skiing. But we do it anyway! Off to the local park .... where it's "then there's icy."
But it's a rare day where I'm not going to like a ski run. A forest with the crunch of snow, a meadow lost under a white quilt -- they're all magical. And today, the quick drive to the park and back gave us a last farewell to these gallant birds before they really call it quits and fly off to Miami for some hot night life there.
In the afternoon, the kids are here again and this time, I steer them away from skiing. They wont feel confident on icy snow, so I bring out the sled for some easy fun.
And this time, they stay down the hill, where Snowdrop spins one of her usual stories, this one with an Aunt Rose visit, requiring a transport of logs for the occasion. Sparrow is just happy to be included in the story line.
After an hour of play, I start making noises about it being soooo much warmer inside! We go through our usual five more minutes (which ends up being more like half an hour's worth of five more minutes) and eventually I just insist and maybe I should have not insisted because once inside, they look at my suggestion table (where I put out new books or books I think we should reread) and they get me to read to them for the remaining two and a half hours that they are with me. Nonstop. Well, no, I do pause to make hot chocolate. And then it's back to Jenny Linsky and the Cat Club, which hits that magic spot where both Snowdrop and Sparrow can feel the thrill of the tale, even as she is almost seven and he is a solid three and a half.
In the evening, Ed and I binge watch Maid -- a Netflix miniseries that just sucks us right into its rather depressing set of circumstances. We didn't mean for it to happen, but on the other hand, maybe it's good to think about circumstances that are far far far worse than your own. The episodes are gripping and we stay glued, watching one after another, while the furnace hums and the pine scented candle flickers in its last hour of golden light.
