The Winter Solstice comes in 2 days, the shortest day and longest night of the year, and it is cause for celebration because it marks the depth of winter.
I haven't seen the exterior of my house in daylight all week, because the days are so short.
This morning I didn't want to get out of bed. It's not because I feel depressed or sad or because I have winter-time blues, it's because bed is a nice nest of warmth, and the rest of the house is dark and cold. Even the dogs like to stay in bed. My cat sleeps next to me and usually stirs before the alarm, often she'll find my hands uncovered and rub her chin against my fingertips, which I find a much more agreeable manner to awaken than the blaring clarion of an alarm we have.
I'm not a morning person. I do like mornings, but I think "morning" should begin when the sun rises, not when the alarm wrenches me from my dreams and shocks me from my slumber.
This morning I hit the snooze button once and S & I lay back to back, which is the most comfortable thing in the world, before he got up to shower. He has his own agenda and usually it begins with COFFEE and that's how he says it, too.
I stayed in bed. I don't get up until 20 minutes before I have to be out the door because I don't require breakfast or coffee, my morning routine is streamlined and minimalist. This morning I knew I had to take out the trash also, so I had to get up by 7:10. Which means I was still in bed, in the dark, cozy and warm, when S returned to the room after his shower.
He turned on the light and called me names, such as "Dormouse," and "Sleepyhead," and asked why I was still in bed, it's 7:07. I said yes I know, I was just thinking about what clothes to wear. He laughed at me and said that was the best one he had ever heard. I was mildly indignant because I had honestly been thinking about what clothes to wear. But if that amuses him then good.
What amuses me is he went to work this morning, his last scheduled day at the phone call sweat shop, left himself logged in and supposedly taking calls, went and got his paycheck, and left. He's headed home to split firewood and make spinach dip and pick up minor messes and move furniture around to accomodate dancers and people with guitars.
Tonight we're expecting about 30 people to fill our house with music and laughter and more than a few empty beer and wine bottles. It's Friday night, and it's close to the longest night of the year. I want to dance under the midnight winter sky in the waning moon's light.
And tomorrow I won't get out of bed until the sun rises.
I haven't seen the exterior of my house in daylight all week, because the days are so short.
This morning I didn't want to get out of bed. It's not because I feel depressed or sad or because I have winter-time blues, it's because bed is a nice nest of warmth, and the rest of the house is dark and cold. Even the dogs like to stay in bed. My cat sleeps next to me and usually stirs before the alarm, often she'll find my hands uncovered and rub her chin against my fingertips, which I find a much more agreeable manner to awaken than the blaring clarion of an alarm we have.
I'm not a morning person. I do like mornings, but I think "morning" should begin when the sun rises, not when the alarm wrenches me from my dreams and shocks me from my slumber.
This morning I hit the snooze button once and S & I lay back to back, which is the most comfortable thing in the world, before he got up to shower. He has his own agenda and usually it begins with COFFEE and that's how he says it, too.
I stayed in bed. I don't get up until 20 minutes before I have to be out the door because I don't require breakfast or coffee, my morning routine is streamlined and minimalist. This morning I knew I had to take out the trash also, so I had to get up by 7:10. Which means I was still in bed, in the dark, cozy and warm, when S returned to the room after his shower.
He turned on the light and called me names, such as "Dormouse," and "Sleepyhead," and asked why I was still in bed, it's 7:07. I said yes I know, I was just thinking about what clothes to wear. He laughed at me and said that was the best one he had ever heard. I was mildly indignant because I had honestly been thinking about what clothes to wear. But if that amuses him then good.
What amuses me is he went to work this morning, his last scheduled day at the phone call sweat shop, left himself logged in and supposedly taking calls, went and got his paycheck, and left. He's headed home to split firewood and make spinach dip and pick up minor messes and move furniture around to accomodate dancers and people with guitars.
Tonight we're expecting about 30 people to fill our house with music and laughter and more than a few empty beer and wine bottles. It's Friday night, and it's close to the longest night of the year. I want to dance under the midnight winter sky in the waning moon's light.
And tomorrow I won't get out of bed until the sun rises.
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