BLIZZARD

We saw it coming, so though the weatherman compares it to the blizzard of '78 there's not really a strong comparison. I've awakened early to see the damage and search for an unfrosted window through which to look. With the drifting and blowing, it's hard to tell. The picnic table is clear; lawn chairs left out to weather the winter have disappeared under mounds of the white stuff.
The 10 year old in me can't wait to get out in it. The mature (albeit practically senior self) says use your !@#$ head. (I've left the expletives for you to mentally insert.)
So I look at this day, hopefully a day for the creative muses to kick in. I'm working on a midgrade novel which in terms of subject and length, is looking more like a YA all the time. I'm not good at doing my own editing and will bore my grown children to death with requests for reads.And finishing an illustration for publication.
The coffee is perking and I'll shower and dress, treating this like any other work day, although I don't have to warm up a car and leave the house. (There are also no predictable paychecks, perks or benefits) Just a love for what I do and hope that someone will recognize it. And a very generous spouse who fills with with dishes, laundry, and an encouraging pat on the back. Happy Valentines Day, honey.