Snow between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day tends to be a gentle and pleasant way to wind down the year. A falling asleep after a long toil. A blanket of white.
January, just barely, keeps this going for a couple of weeks… before it turns into February, the longest month of the year.
It goes from how nice it is to put on fuzzy clothing and fuzzy slippers and slip under a fuzzy blanket with your fuzzy pets on your fuzzy couch with your equally fuzzy main squeeze and watch fuzzy shows while you drink something that will make you fuzzy into something where if you get in the door, untie one boot, then remember that you didn’t check the mailbox and you seriously debate whether the benefit of tying your boot again and opening that door will have anything near the payoff of letting it pile up for two days and just getting it tomorrow.
In January, it makes sense to get the mail. In February, it makes sense to get it tomorrow.
Well, until the middle of January, anyway.
As such, this weekend will probably be the last one where “fuzzy” is a celebration of winter rather than a defense mechanism. As such, I hope to be fuzzy this weekend between errands, chores, and studying.
So… what’s on your docket?