i woke before dawn to the sound of tinkling leaves. the icy mess on the driveway sent the puppies scurrying to do their business without so much as one errant sniff. im glad i cant go anywhere.
the lamp on my desk makes a glowing crescent on the blue snow outside the window, the sleet scatters across the glass like sand. if ever a day was made to spend lying curled up on a couch beneath an afgan, curled around Beloved and a cup of hot chocolate, today would be the day.
i feel the press of obligation, the call of cookies waiting to be baked, presents to be sorted, wrapped and ordered. there's laundry to be done, dishes to be washed, soup to be started. there's boxes to be sorted, rooms to be cleaned. sarah dances maddeningly around in my head, a siren-slyph who refuses to still herself down long enough for me to write more than five coherent sentences in a row.
or maybe its only me that can't be still.
and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.