Tuesday, December 17, 2013


One of the best surprises I can imagine is seven fluffy inches storming in to hide the town.
I woke lazy on Saturday morning to the quiet brightness that only happens when the little world is pulled in at the edges by the collective, hushed resolve to throw in the towel and just stay home.

The doors were all closed, the streets a ghost-town. And still, it felt like a certain kind of community, a solidarity in our willingness to open our fists from around all our plans and just ride the sucker out.

Sometimes, the best Saturdays are not spent as much as they are whiled away.
So we padded around in pajamas and yesterday's socks and slow-cooked pork tacos while we napped for hours and watched another movie.

The kids did their weirdo-kid thing and opted to play in the elements. Not once, but twice. Oy.

And in between, we stirred warm drinks with our friend from down the street while she laughed at my (non)hairdo and asked about the birthmark on my face. She'd never noticed it before. We opened the door to our raging mess and marveled at the way an interrupted day can turn out to be the salviest balm.

Who knew it could be so good? To just be stuck together, insulated by my very favorite people while the sky falls down around us in whispers and heaps. Eating and resting, laughing and being. No chores or lists or constricting fabrics.

We talked after dark about calling a snow day every month, but I have to wonder if some of the magic would be lost in willing it to be, in deciding for ourselves. Because while I'm all for spinning straw into gold most days, not all gifts are meant to be recreated and some of the best adventures happen when we yield to being stuck.

ps - Sweet chili slaw on top of the pork tacos. Hello, game-changer!

*I'm linking up to my homegirl Emily's Tuesdays Unwrapped where we're all unwrapping simple gifts.