Many were the years that we dressed up in warm clothes and battled bad roads going to work. When I think back to some of my solo drives in white-outs and ice, I know there were four hands on the steering wheel. A person has to live through the harsh working years before being able to properly appreciate the cuddly indoor days like this.
I think of our home as an art gallery. Every window is a picture frame. Mother Nature is in charge of changing the animated pictures at Her whim.
There's a birthday in our house today. I'm thinking the new snowfall is a birthday card sent down from his relatives in Heaven. That might be stretching the realm of possibility, but who's to say.
Our little family of 3 celebrates our birthdays for at least a week before, and at least a week after the actual day. We reminisce about birthdays past, especially like the one 26 years ago today. I got gutsy and planned a walloping surprise party, invited around 150 friends and family to help celebrate, readied enough food to feed the army, only to watch the white stuff fall aggressively, hour after hour all day long, until roads were impassable with 12-15" by the time the party was to start.
I vowed to myself never ever as long as I live to plot another surprise party. My good intentions flopped, my heart was broken, tears fell. My efforts were curtailed, the party failed. Was there a message from heaven involved that time? If there was, I never did figure out what it was.
From Your Girls