All the World is a Birthday Cake

"Ho-o-o-oly crap!" Was the first thing I said, today.

I laid in my bed, like I do, reticent to get out from underneath the electric blanket. My cat kept coming into my room. She would stand at the door and say, "Raaaow?" And I finally threw off the blankets and went into the kitchen where I was confused because she had plenty of food and water. She jumped up into the window in the dining room and said, "Raaow!" And I looked at the window and said, "Ho-o-o-oly crap! Who's a good dog?" And then I rewarded her with pets for knowing I'd really like to see that, even before 8:00.

I can't take a decent photograph so I'll have to just use a thousand words.

When I came home from work, last night, it was 26 degrees and there was no real wind. It was just a regular, cold night. I didn't have to pull my coat any tighter than usual, there were no indications (aside from rumors that I'd learned to ignore) that there would be snow to this degree and this magnitude when I woke up this morning. And not just snow covering everything. That's not enough to be so impressive. Snow flakes are huge, fat, juicy little suckers. They're flying around, twisting down in spirals and looping back up and collecting in my windowsills.

Out my window, it looks like a black and white movie. In no time at all, Fred and Ginger are going to come dancing down the middle of the road and pass by my house as if this was the sort of thing that happened every day. The snow is thick like frosting and all the world is a birthday cake.

I used a book of Emily Dickenson poetry to prop open the window when it was warmer outside and now the book is just leaned up against the glass and it kind of looks like Emily is pining to play in the snow. I kind of am, too. There are inches and inches out there and it's still coming down so quickly. Does it make sense to say that I just want to take a huge bite out of it? Because I do. A gigantic hunk right out of the frozen lawn. When I go to open my door, there is resistance. A few more hours and I could be legitimately snowed in. Please, oh please.

If today was a snow day, I'd make a full pot of coffee instead of just half. I'd work on that very funny blog-post that I've been milling around for a few days. But it's a project and I may even need some help. Rest assured, you'll have something very good to read once I get some time to work on it. If today was a snow day, I'd make something for dinner that takes all day to simmer on the stove and I would take it to my neighbors to keep them warm. But that's not today, because it's not a snow day. But it is.

Love, Libby

Update: My manager was kind enough to offer me a half a snow day. So that's kind of him. I think he knows that I like to turn on my oven when it's particularly cold outside. He may reap the benefits.