Manna

This week, for the first time in 25 years (says the blonde meteorologist on TV), my city got two 12-inch snows in the span of just a few days. Yesterday, millions of flakes turned the view from the bookstore window into shades of grey and we closed the doors at 5:00, shooing a few wandering customers out into the weather five hours earlier than usual. I tried to make plans for the two hours that had been shaved from my shift at work (I could read! I could write! I could watch the storm from the couch!), but they were thwarted by a disappointing fake-out from a certain university (a big envelope that contained nothing but a meaningless brochure of campus housing), a pile of dirty dishes, and a rumbly in my tumbly that demanded I cook.

Now, heavy wet snow covers every corner of this old neighborhood with brilliant white. Bare tree branches are two-faced; several inches of snow props itself up against window sills and the spaces between the rods in the porch railing; on the beautiful brick house across the street, clumps of snow cling to browned ivy; and cars and houses appear to have sunk a little into the ground overnight.

I don't work today, and all week my plan has been to clean the house from top to bottom, the way I try to do every few weeks. But last night Eric put in his vote for me taking today off. I vetoed the idea immediately because I'm not sure when I'll have another good chance to clean. But then I thought about all the times I've stood at work, staring out the window at rain or snow and said to whoever happened to be standing nearby, "What a perfect day to stay home and read. I wish I didn't have to work." Except for the current lull in the snowfall, today is one of those days. And since this is just two days after an unexpectedly long trip to the hair salon (where they attempted to pamper me with an ironically ill-timed "relaxation experience") made me half an hour late for work and left me tense and short-tempered for hours, I'm thinking maybe I should take nature's hint.

So here's the new plan: I'll still do the dishes and clear the clutter off the coffee table and probably run a dust mop around the house. And I'll probably do some writing that's been dogging me. But not until later in the afternoon. Right now, I'm going to make a cup of coconut ceylon tea, lie down on the couch with the last third of Moby-Dick, and watch while a blue jay uses his face to throw snow off the bird feeder suction-cupped to our living room window.