As I walked through the house yesterday, flipping all the calendars to February, I looked around at the evidence of our days that I found in each room. Yup, it's February, I thought, as I saw reflected - on the floors and on the beds and in the couches and by the entryway - all the things that fill our days this time of year. It is the time of year where there's time to learn a whole new song in a day, sitting in front of the fire and breaking only for meals and to rest one's fingers. Craft books are being scoured for the next greatest thing we should do. And the projects started in the evening stay on the table and are jumped right into after breakfast again. Game marathons happen on every level from poker to Sorry and a very modified Go Fish that only one knows the rules to. And there is time for all-day-long imaginative play, acting out our favorite imagined or known stories (currently Ani playing the role of "Annie" is working out very well for the cleanliness of my floors/windows/and banisters). There is napping - if only from the cats, literally - but a certain kind of winter resting from all of us. And daydreaming too as we plan what's to come in the seasons ahead.
Oh, and lots and lots of sledding and skiing and skating and all that good snowy stuff that happens this time of year too. And the corresponding hot chocolate and popcorn, piles of snowy winter gear that block the doorway, and vying for the spot closest to the wood stove upon returning back inside.
We woke up to more snow falling this morning that doesn't look as though it plans on stopping or slowing anytime soon. As I sat down in my studio to do my morning work the emails came in right after another - fiddle is canceled! dance is canceled! riding is canceled! And so, we find ourselves starting another February Day. This is good.
