I woke early this morning--too early to be up and about in the cold.
When I trudged into the bathroom at 6 a.m. and peered out I was surprised to see the porch roof below the window piled with snow. The yard and lane were white and snow was sifting down in soft soundless flakes.
This is our first snow cover of the season.
I rummaged quietly in a dresser drawer for my black silk 'long johns' [Eddie Bauer!] went into the closet and chose a warm turtleneck sweater.
The kitchen was invitingly cozy, Jim having come downstairs at 4 to let Charlie-cat out and to shove more wood in the stove .
[Charlie loves to be inside in the evening, socializing, but inevitably decides during the night that he would like to be outside, no matter the weather.]
I flicked on the porch light and discovered that Charlie, along with Nellie, would like to 'come in, please,' while Willis and the tortie sisters insisted that they needed their breakfast now
to ward off the cold.
Two cats in, Bobby dashing out and off the porch into the snow.
He flits about, flakes glinting on his long black fur, then settles under the back bumper of the car, having a little think.
Shutting the door on the cold, I prod the fire, add several slabs of wood, open a
new package of coffee.
Time for a hot shower before pulling on my layers of warm clothing.
By the time we have had breakfast Bobby is ready to enjoy the comforts of the house.
I pick him up and sniff the cold clean scent of snow in his fur.
The sun didn't appear today.
County offices and schools were closed due to the snow.
[After years of living in Vermont and Wyoming where winters are long and snow-laden, we feel mildly amused that a dusting of the 'white stuff' slows daily life to a crawl here in the mid-south.]
The mail is not delivered.
Walking down the lane to deliver a message to J. at the lower shop I am aware of the quiet--no sounds of traffic from the main road.
Tree branches loom stark against the pale lowering sky.
Back in the kitchen I chop onion, celery, carrot, the beginning of a pot of soup for our renter.
[The propane supplier hasn't come up with a tank of the desired size to install the gas
for the cook stove.]
I stir up batter for cornbread to be baked in a cast iron skillet in the electric oven.
The cats clamor at my feet demanding their tea. I dish this out although they are an hour early with their request.
The kitchen fills with the homey smell of simmering vegetable soup and a pan of stewed tomatoes.
Jim has lumbered up the road with the tractor and box blade to plow our neighbor's steep driveway.
By the time he clumps through the back entry, knocking snow from his boots, I've made green salads topped with hard-boiled eggs and lemon pepper tuna.
Taking out the compost bucket I stop to admire the latest load of slab wood which J. fetched from the Amish mill yesterday.
Willis dives at the fluff of snow churned up by my boots.
He crouches and wiggles--doubtless seeing 'snow snakes' and 'hide-behinds.'
Darkness settles early on this snow-muffled grey day.
We are warm, sheltered, well-fed.
The pace of work is slow, plans easily deferring to weather.
The pantry and freezer are well-stocked.
I have books and sewing.
Jim has his TV.
Let it snow!