This is the view from my third story window, just outside of my bedroom. The snow is falling heavy and thick, like rain. The snowstorms (I’ve lost count) have been coming in like waves across the ocean.
Six to nine more inches are currently on their way to cover the thick blanket of snow that already covers the ground. These inches bring so many questions: Will the kids have school? Will I meet my deadlines, or will I be playing checkers and Uno with the kids? How will this new snow affect the icy-covered speed bumps we created on the sledding hill yesterday afternoon? Is there enough milk to get me through the night, and possibly tomorrow? Will I have enough sanity to get through another spell of cabin fever? What about the hats we placed on the heads of the snowmen we built on the front yard during the last snowstorm — where are they now?
The kids have already eaten, by sneaking hand-fulls, the bag of marshmallows I planned to dot their mugs of chocolate milk.
Each snow storm brings with it its own set of “themes.” We’ve had the vintage movie theme, the cooking theme, Beatles theme, the fort theme, and the latest is turning into the game theme. The inches of snow are creating their own mini “eco” system of pseudo-summer vacation, without the bare-feet, in the middle of winter. These are moments of togetherness to be treasured — I must remind myself.
“Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.” Albert Einstein
Tracey’s Best Shot Monday.