Snow, for one. I cannot tell you how very sick I am of the sight of it, the thought of it. I want my yard back, my driveway, my life. I want the outdoors back. I want to take the compost out without having to put on boots and a coat and a scarf. I want to do it without cursing. I want routine and normalcy back. The kids have missed an unbelievable number of school days this winter. We’re just off an unscheduled four day weekend and today, a holiday for some (not me), was a make up day. Thank god.
We’ve used our time off well. We’re none of us ever bored. The kids are always doing something. They really aren’t snow people. None of us are big on winter so we’ve basically holed up in the house doing our various things – together and apart, in turns. Doors are closed and then opened again. It’s quiet, then noisy, then quiet again. It could be worse. We haven’t lost power this winter which has been a blessing. We’ve baked a lot. The kids made ice cream in their ice cream ball. We’ve eaten more than we should.
Dusty made this stunning squid for a client:
We baked pretzels for another. I began to clean the bedroom closet. I threw stuff out and took things to the consignment store (once I could get out). I vacuumed. Our idleness didn’t become sloth. Not entirely, anyway, and really could you blame us? Everything we can do indoors has been done. We’ve lost interest in the Olympics but I’ve turned Dusty on to Veronica Mars and now the dvds can’t arrive quickly enough for her.
But, I need this white shit to be gone. I need to get to the garden. I need to open the windows. I need to be warm. I need to wear only one layer of clothing. I did say, I think, that February is always worse than January and it’s certainly proven me right this year. And I realize March is no magic charm with it’s fluctuating temperatures and sudden last minute snow falls like it had some left in the bag and its contract stated it must not pass go into April without emptying it out first. But March is at least a start. It’s the gate that opens to the pasture of spring. It’s a promise of BETTER.