Staying In

Is there anything better than laying in a cozy bed, with no plans to pull you away, while the outdoors gets scrubbed clean by the first spring rain?  

Some days are made for staying in.

True, Finn and I still managed a wind-whipped morning walk between gully washers, made all the more successful because neither of us was terrorized by tumbling tree limbs calling "uncle."  But, as soon as we got back home, we both knew it was likely a one-and-done kind of day.

It is a good thing when the weather occasionally sabotages our self importance and washes out our weekend wish lists.  

It is a good thing to idly stare out the rain-spattered back window, gape-jawed at the Cedar Waxwings eating breakfast in our Crab Apple.  It is a good thing to have the delicious task of riffling through the bookshelf, pondering which untouched title to pick up next.  Heck, this morning, it even is a good thing to dawdle on the dwindling want-ads pages, wondering if I have what it takes to be a Night Distribution Coordinator at the paper (I don't). 

Surely, this year--of all years-- we've learned to appreciate the "pause" button a bit more, begun to understand the importance of being able to pivot in the midst of disruption.  And what ruption will be dissed for you on this rainy day?

Will you replace tending your garden with writing a friend a letter?  Swap tallying your taxes for taking a long, hot bath?  Is today the day you give yourself over to the joy of music played too loud, of dance moves that erupt without forethought or shame? 

Finn may disagree, but I'm rather looking forward to seeing what unfolds within these walls that hold me today.