Snow Day.

When I woke up there was a trace of white dusting the back yard. Snow always changes a landscape, makes it alien and strange to the eyes. I’ve never seen this yard with snow in it, so the unexpected contrasts made it seem as though I had never been here before.

In the afternoon, I went downtown to write the musical with Rick, and the snow really started coming down then. It swirled around handsome couples with chiseled features and impeccable taste in cashmere scarves. It caught in the anime-hair of foreign exchange students. It whited out the parking lot at Kits Beach. It was beautiful.

Nothing makes me feel more like nesting than snow. I came home and made a shepherd’s pie, and then some (pretty bad) oatmeal cookies. I even went so far as to de-crystallize the honey my cousin sent from his apiary. I got out the feather duvet for extra cosiness. And then I drank wine and watched Hilary Duff movies on WTN (I know! Never mind my loserhood!) and looked at the strange white world outside in the darkness.

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