Red Room Where the Writers Are

We are iced in here at the farm, but we are warm, well fed, and with electricity. I wish everyone were so blessed.  

Yesterday our daughter Katherine phoned and asked if it was pretty looking out our large curtainless windows. Although the roads were covered with ice, the fields were largely brown.  I had to say no.  But when we woke up this morning, it had snowed several inches, and the white lawn runs downs and joins the white snow-covered lake. It is beautiful. Gerald had filled the bird feeders just in time for this, and we’ve enjoyed watching the hungry ones feast out on our deck.  Schools are called off. And kids (and some adults) are enjoying sledding and snow play.  Schools are still closed tomorrow.

We had  follow-up appointments yesterday with a dermatologist in the Saint Louis area, but we finally made the decision Monday afternoon that we better cancel that rather than go up a day early to try and beat the ice. We’d probably still be stuck up there at Mary Ellen’s if we had not.

We have not had mail nor paper delivery either day.  However, Gerald says if we need to go anywhere, we can get out with his pickup.  He was out and about clearing sidewalks today with a scraper on the lawn mower. Although he occupies himself with phone calls, photography, reading, and television, he gets cabin fever pretty quickly and finds excuses to pile on the outerwear and go outside for some task or other. 

I haven’t been any further than using the washer/drier in the garage, which is pretty chilly right now.  I have filed a few papers and written a few notes, but unfortunately, I have not managed to get into a book yet although it would seem this would be the perfect time to snuggle up with one.

I loved snow days when our children were still at home and in school. I loved being isolated, making hot chocolate for them with marshmallows on top, and using the days to work on the family scrapbook when I wasn’t helping them get in and out of snowsuits and boots.

It has been years since I have finished a scrapbook.  I have boxes of newspaper clippings and mementoes of grandchildren’s drawings, but I no longer have the ambition to spread them on the dining room table and spend entire days reminiscing and sorting and pasting.  I claim I am saving that project for my frail elderly years when I cannot get out of the house even in pretty weather. I suspect I may not be that ambitious then either.  We’ll see.

In the meantime, I am enjoying the coziness of watching the weather in the warmth of home.