So with open hours sprawled out before me, I hunkered under the fluffy down duvet and watched morning television from the comfort of my cosy bed; I drank hot mugs of coffee while I watched the white stuff pile up against the window; and I checked in with my loved ones.
With Kidlet's birthday tomorrow, I had potato leek soup to make and a cake to bake. With country music as the soundtrack, I chopped, sauteed, and pureed, stirred and mixed, and baked and cooked. I resisted the urge to lick the icing from the beaters - or my fingers for that matter. And when I was all done, it looked like a cyclone had blown through the kitchen. But a few Mary Chapin Carpenter songs later and I had it cleaned and order was restored.
It's been a good day... freedom day... hours spent with no plans and nothing to do but follow my heart's desires. Who cares if my hair smells like leek soup or that I wasn't able to get out to buy salad fixings for the lunch tomorrow -- it was a day of peaceful perfection and a wonderful, slow, snow day. And for that I am so very grateful.