My office was closed on Wednesday. I was tempted to join Holly.
I managed to wrestle myself away from my warm covers. I went to the window and saw Farmer Boy hard at it. He was decked out in his winter's finest and working away at the driveway before 6am. I watched him from the window, the yard light and the light of his lawn tractor illuminating the frigid winter morning. I contemplated getting some pictures and then I contemplated frigid.
I waited until the sun was up before I suited up. The snow was heavy. I was bitter. I was sore. If you can believe it I was sweating. Thank you hot flash. Thank you for no documentation of that moment.
The kids had a blast. The snow was perfect for digging tunnels and building forts.
Holly got her beauty rest and headed outside. She rolled and rolled in the snow. I have no idea why. She was simply being a dog I guess. It was about time. She forgets sometimes.
The wind had blown across the snow all night and packed it. My hour and a half of shoveling produced hundreds of blocks of snow. My children, being inventive and brilliant, thought of the perfect way to use those blocks.
The next morning, the storm had passed. Our brief winter vacation was over. The world went back to it's normal routine. The cars returned to their mindless march along our road. Back to school, back to work, back to wherever it is they go every morning.
Winter is tough. It's challenging, inconvenient, and even frightening. It's not even close to being over. It's also a beautiful sunrise on the day after a storm, red cheeks, wet mitts, cold feet, and time at home with nowhere else to go.
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