Friday, December 7, 2007

* Snowy expectations

Hey there,

Yesterday was a day of ups and downs. That's not exactly true. I was up, and stayed up for the better part of the day; then, I crashed. I awoke to beautiful, white snowflakes drifting down from the heavens. I instantly felt that wintertime nesting warmth fill my spirit. I woke Heather, knowing how much she loves the snow. She sat up, looked out the window, and was filled with wonder. As soon as I got things squared away with Heather, I decided that I needed a few things at the store before the snow got too heavy. When I got home, I set about my days chores and in record time, my house was clean, and filled with the warmth of glowing candles, and filled with the smells of chili, cornbread, and home made cookies baking. I was pleased to see that the snow had managed to lure Heather outside for some playtime with her friends. The dogs, were thrilled with the snow. I've always found that a good snowfall can bring out the puppy in even the oldest dog, and cause puppies to literally tremble with joy. And to be honest, I was fairly overflowing with contentment. So much, that I had envisioned this lovely evening of my husband and oldest son coming home from work to a hot meal and "together time" as a family.

That didn't happen. Roy had taken Nick to a 4:30 pm court appointment, and because of the snow, the judge didn't arrive until 6:00pm. During their wait, they gorged themselves on fast food. By the time that they got home, not only were they uninterested in food, but they had their own agenda. Roy's only interest was an hour of mind numbing television, and an early bed time. He had come down with a stomach virus on Monday, and with Roy, there is no such thing as a 24 hour virus. Every illness is a 7 day, poor - me - pity - party. Nick had decided to spend his evening chatting with his girlfriend on the phone. So much for my warm, family night. Oh well. I do that sometimes. I get so full of my own ideas that when it doesn't work out, I feel disappointed and frustrated. I think it's a woman thing that men just can't seem to comprehend. So, after Jake and Heather's exhausting day of snow play, they went to bed early. Roy and Nick were unconscious by 9 pm, and I was left all alone with my disappointment for the rest of the evening. *SIGH* That's the way it goes. So ...I ended up spending the evening snuggled with my dogs on the couch, watching "Eight Below", which always makes me cry. How pathetic and sappy is that ?

So Anyway, today was good. No fresh snowfall or anything, but good. I got alot accomplished. I've spent most of the evening at the grocery store preparing for the up coming ice storm that they are forecasting for the weekend. And No, I'm not getting my hopes up for some grand family adventure. I suspect that if we actually get the predicted ice storm, my house will be filled with the kids from next door, and my husband will be engrossed in various football games. Maybe I'll just find a good book and spend the weekend relaxing.

Okay, It's bed time for me.
Good night All.
Love ,
Susan

2 howled back:

Betty said...

I love that movie "eight below"...and yes, I cry too whenever animals are hurt or dying on film. Too sad! I even saw a bit of Lassie on tv today and had to turn it over. That dog made me sob as a child, whenever poor old girl was in danger ( remember the one when she was dragged into the rapids? oh my, how I did bawl)


Well I for one think your home sounds like out of a fairytale ( minus the ignorant fellas of course!!). The snow falling, the warm and cosy house with things cooking...the candles, the warm clothes and stocking up on groceries for an ice storm.
Oh, that sounds so amazing!!

Have a wonderful weekend,

love mel xx

Christopher said...

I would love a good snow fall around here to keep us in and cuddled up! There's never enough cuddles in the world... I"m glad from time to time when God sends something like snow to force cuddle us.

Hope your weekend goes splendidly and you get a few cuddles in yet!!

-C (http://christopherc.wordpress.com/)