A wintry storm had been forecast. Snow fell over night. The landscape looked clean and beautiful with the newly fallen snow. Like any other typical week day I got myself up and dressed and went off to work.
It snowed all morning. The office closed at noon and we were sent home. On the short, five-minute drive home I contemplated how to spend this precious block of unexpected, unscheduled time. I could spend uninterrupted hours reading my current mystery novel. Or stitching on my latest counted cross stitch project. Or working a jigsaw puzzle. Or playing in the snow with the dogs. Long ago, back in my teaching days in Wisconsin when I was single, there were typically several snow days each winter. I made up my mind then that I would not use a snow day working on either schoolwork or on chores around home. I decided the day was a precious gift and I would treat it as luxury free time and spend it doing something that I really enjoy. During my marriage and while raising a child, my time wasn’t really my own so I did not have the same freedom. Now that I am a widowed empty nester, I once again have adopted the approach from my teaching days.
The question remained, “How would I spend the afternoon?” When I arrived home I ate my lunch and checked my personal email. I spent some quality time with my loving but aging yellow Labrador retriever. I slipped into something comfortable and thought I might take just a little nap. You may have guessed the rest of the story. I woke up hours later with darkness descending outdoors. I had not read one word in my novel or stitched even one stitch. But to me there is nothing more luxurious than a guilt free, peaceful nap in a warm, comfortable, cozy bed when the winter elements are raising havoc outdoors. I do not feel guilty. It was not wasted time because I never expected to have it to begin with. It was a perfect way to spend the day. And who knows, if I am blessed to have another snow day I might spend it in exactly the same way.
A quiet, contented, luxurious sleepy afternoon, just another thread of my life.