As I write to y'all, I'm gazing out my picture window in my "room of one's own," looking out on a wintry white wonderland, the kind of scene so often depicted on Christmas cards or viewed in miniature within a snowglobe after you shake the crystal ball. The palette is all frosted white, silver, teal and gray, the skeletons of the winter-warped trees lacey against the sky. It is beautiful, but I'm cozy inside, loathe to go out.
Montrealers are tough, Canadians are hearty. Though it looks like we have close to a couple of feet of snow and blowing gusts of white, school is in session, basketball practice for my star daughter is happening tonight, life goes on. No matter that the plows have not really completed their work yet, no matter that driving conditions are slow and difficult, perhaps hazardous, no matter that visibility is poor.
I plan to stay in, all day, and throughout the night. There will be b-ball tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. We will have a blazing fire and hot cocoa, we will gather together and read and chat. Winter, bring it on. I have what I need right here.
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