Sunglasses Always Fit

for all i’ve been mocking durham’s outright panic at the possibility of snow, the last 24 hours have been REALLY exciting for me. if you’re wondering how many inches of snow it takes to completely shut down durham, the answer is two. two inches.

but it was a pretty two inches.

we were promised snow allllllllll day. i got called early into work, and i was praying the snow would wait long enough for me to close the bar, hit up kroger for some supplies (milk! bread! candles! haha just kidding i bought wine and frozen pizza) and pull adequate wood from the shed to have a roaring fire all night.

my wishes were granted! i was happily roasting in front of a fire, on my second glass of wine, watching “el bachelor” online when the flakes began to fall. it was really beautiful. i cried a little bit. i made a video.

and then i just kinda chilled. i put my headphones in, tended the fire, drank my wine, and watched the pretty flakes fall. there is something really nice about that. of course, depending on the song, i sometimes drifted into self-pity. “i wish i wasn’t alone. i want to cuddle. i want to make out. someone bring me dessert.” it’s hard being single sometimes. snow and a fire beg for conversation, for holding hands, for chocolate. i had none of those things.

i woke up early. fun fact about snow – when the sun comes up and reflects the world of white all around you, it is REALLY hard to continue sleeping in your room with barely working shades.

i went into the kitchen, opened the backdoor, and literally squealed. it was so beautiful. i drank my coffee at the table facing the yard, content to sigh at the world of white before me. i got dressed and felt the satisfaction of snow crunching under my boots. going out onto the deck was interesting, as there were SEVERAL footprints of an animal nature that led under my porch.

upon further investigation, i discovered literally dozens of animal prints surrounding my house. apparently, my backyard is some sort of wildlife interstate, passing under my window, around the trees, tip-toeing to and from the neighbors’.

the intersection of animal paths was pretty amazing. i like to think that all kinds of animals get along in my backyard. i can see the deer prancing up to the squirrels and bunnies, and they all greet each other. “‘ello, charlie. what a lovely looking walnut you have there.” “thanks, rupert. lovely night.” “indeed.” “cheerio.” in my wildlife fantasies, all the animals have british accents. well. in all my fantasies of any kind – british accents.

i walked down to my lake, the neighborhood was beautiful. little kids full of misplaced ambition to sled somewhere. the forest was quiet, but there were so many animal footprints. the little pond i like to think laura ingalls grew up on was frozen over.

i tried to throw the cat out into the snow for a youtube video, but i think it’s dad being gone for a week, and me withholding wet food for the last three days because i can’t stand the smell, made it super friendly towards me.

it purred and hummed and wove back and forth between my legs, head butting me with affection when i got on the floor. so instead of flinging it outside, i opened the door. it went outside two steps and then looked back at me as if to say “human – WHAT THE HELL.” and then came back in for some salmon pate.

and now i have a new pile of wood to burn through, i’ve started a new book i know will keep me up all night to finish, and pumpkin bread is baking in the oven. my house is covered in frosting.

if nothing good happens for the next 40-odd days i have left in durham, i will always remember the morning i got to wake up in narnia.