Snow

I awoke bright and early this morning, with the knowledge there would be snow to contend with before I could tackle the rest of "Monday".

We have been on the receiving end of a lot of snow this past weekend. Probably more snow than we have had, this winter-to-date.

I tried, but I could not be angry with the snow, the weather nor the fact that I was out dealing with it on my own.

No. I was good with this. Outside. On a mild winter day. Alone. Tackling a task that felt enormous but it was measurable. One very (very) long driveway; a city sidewalk in front of our yard; a cat walk between our yard and our neighbor's; a side walk in front of our home and a deck in the back yard.

I shovelled. And shovelled. And shovelled some more. 

I could have quit at several different points and called it good enough. But I didn't. I had done "this much". I could do more. I wanted to do more.

It felt cathartic to be outside, waking up with nature. I started shovelling in the dark and it was light outside before I was done (an hour and a half later). 

A quick little trill of excitement went through me when I realized I could watch for new rabbit tracks once again. 

I spotted our elusive neighborhood rabbit when I came home from work one evening a few weeks ago. I smiled when I saw some deep tracks through the pile of snow beside the driveway several days later. I doubt he/she intended on landing in deep snow. He must have been on the run ...

I thought wistfully of my old daycare days. The kids would have been so excited to have a snow day. This pristine, untouched snow is beautiful. But it is also a little bit sad. I miss the days when my little daycare family helped me marvel over the every day miracles this world generously doles out to us.

I thought of those hard working souls who deal with clearing the excess snow from our streets, parking lots and others who must trudge through the snow as a regular part of their job. 

I was grateful I could make a small difference in the world around me by shovelling all the public walks around us.

I came inside and went about my regular morning routines (can I tell you right now, that drinking a large, frozen smoothie while you are just starting to thaw out yourself is a little bit crazy?). 

I poured myself a first, second and finally a third cup of coffee. I would give myself the gift of "time". Just because I could.

I stumbled across a blog writer who speaks to me. She sounds like the "me" I used to aspire to be. Her writing made me feel hopeful, grateful and just plain good. So I wrote her a quick email to tell her so.

What I was most grateful for at the end of this snow-filled morning, was the fact that my day job is very flexible. I could have made it to work relatively at the same time as usual but I was revelling in the moments I had found along my way this morning. 

I am not a big fan of Mondays. 

The first goal within my work life is to cut my bookkeeping work down to a three day work week. But this morning? I simply asked for a "Snow Morning". She would have given me an entire "Snow Day" if I had asked. But I was good with a morning.

A bonus morning off. 

Snow is dealt with. I could leave home in a moment's notice. But I found a way to carve out a little piece of time to read, write and take in the moment.

"This" is very likely what retirement will look like for me. A work slow-down. Jobs with enough give and take to provide some flexibility within my quiet and contented little world.

As I scanned through the archives of my blog, I was reminded of one of my most favorite years. It was a year I worked from home. There was work to be done but I had the flexibility to work it in between the cracks of the life I wanted to live. 

Mom came out to visit that summer and I was fully available to do/go/be who I needed and wanted to be. I fit my work in where I found/made time. I lived in the moment and those moments were pretty good.

I feel a sense of contentment starting to seep in between the cracks of this little life of mine. It's small. It's a beginning. It's fragile. But it is good. It is so very good.

Thanks to a little excess snow, I found a peace of contentment which has been eluding me. Winter is still wielding its power but it won't get the best of us. Spring is on its way. I can feel it in my bones.

Welcome, March!! You are a long lost friend. I am mostly grateful you are followed by April. I've been waiting for April ever since winter arrived.