Heavy Snow Brought A Gigantic Lesson

Gaylord-Ann Arbor Snow!

I can look out two of my windows and see sheets of fluffy, white, feathers coming down from the sky.  It must be the sticky kind of snow, because the branches already have what looks like an inch of snow, standing up like a little wall on each and every branch.  To the tiniest, insignificant extended branch. to the crotch in the trunk's dividing place.

Against my windows, even at the 3rd floor, have a snow-fort-wall of snow, coming up 6-8 inches. (on the North side windows)  I feel like I'm in Ann Arbor, but I live in Gaylord, still.  It's an Ann Arbor-Gaylord winter here.

Snow Gathering on the Window Ledges

 I don't have to worry about shoveling.  That is definitely a plus.  I don't have to worry about driving to Atlanta, Michigan, to teach first graders, when I should stay off the roads!  Or, wearing tundra weather clothing so I am prepared to take them out for recesses during the day.  I don't have to worry about areas the cell phone doesn't have reception. (between the beautiful hills, on M-32, going East)  I don't have to worry about not being able to walk.  The sidewalks in Ann Arbor are remarkably kept up in the winter.  Even most residents keep their sidewalks, in front of their property, shoveled and salted. 

I don't get the elation from the T.V.  The "School-Closings" scrolled on the bottom of the T.V. is exciting to anticipate.  Seeing "Atlanta Closed" come across is worth the wait when the alphabet slowly gets back to the A's again.  Truthfully, I don't use a T.V. anymore.

I don't feel like it's a "Free" day, off from work, making me want to stay inside and bake five loaves of bread and put something to slow-cook in the crock-pot.  I don't get the thrill of watching children making snowmen on the playground, and coming crying to me when a someone wrecks it while they're in class, between recesses.  

But, I can appreciate the beauty of the white.  Without guilt, I can cancel whatever I've planned for the day or days.  I can savor my coffee without thinking about "Getting Going" in the morning. 

I can turn on my fake fireplace and sit by it and read.  I can make a few phone calls I've neglected and catch up with friends and family.  And today (Saturday) I can sit and listen to the "Bill Monroe Show" at WCBN and jot little notes of songs I want to learn or groups/performers I love and want to follow up on.  Usually, they're songs I've never heard before and it enlightens me in the Bluegrass genre. 

The heavy snow lets me give myself permission to stay in my pajamas, write, read, sing, listen, watch or nap, in my own sweet time.  This morning, I even took the time to fry some eggs, with feta, and slowly eat by the window.

Looking at the Snow With Stain-Glass Eyes

A lesson learned is gigantic.  

  It doesn't require a "Snow Day" to be mindful. 

To savor, to smell,

        to taste, to rest, to listen. 

To give yourself permission 

to do what you 

 damn-well please.

                                                                                  Maggie Madagame

My Little Music/Library Area