Snow Day (early morning)

I'm sitting in the little corner bedroom where our babies all slept and the snow is coming down hard. Dave fell back asleep waiting for the snowplow and the cat has spread herself out like a fur stole at my side here. The house is so quiet I can hear the clock ticking all the way down in the kitchen.

I have to file my column today and compose the entire ABC newsletter. I feel like the editor of a small town paper, gathering the news, taking the pictures, writing the stories, doing the paste-up but it’s such a great organization and I am in love with all eight boys that have come to our town as part of it.

I also have to enter the annual column and bogging contests conducted by the National Society of Newspapers today and  check on Uncle Ed who is 88 and hurts a lot when the weather is wet, then fight my way to the car and bring it to the service station because last night as I drove down Washington Street hoping to go to the grand opening of the brand-new Next Door Theater there was a loud BANG! and my window disappeared. I screamed. I thought I’d been shot, and even circled back to see if I saw glass on the street but no. The window, frozen shut with yesterday’s snow, had suddenly let go and disappeared down into the door.

It was a mighty cold ride home and it‘ll be a colder ride to the service station with no window and all this snow and the winds gusting to 50 miles an hour - and that’s if we can even get out of the driveway.

But all this effort is for later. For now all is quiet. The cat and the husband are faintly snoring, the coffee is perking, the clock is  ticking and I am writing to you.