Monday, February 1, 2010

Retreats, Part I: The Snow Day

A foot of snow dumped on my hometown this weekend. For those not from the South, a foot of snow means “batten down the hatches and buy out the bread, that’s a shit load of snow!”

It wrecked my weekend plans. Until this morning’s treacherous drive to work, I hadn’t left the house since F

riday night. Normally, prolonged confinement makes me stir-crazy. (Picture the mayhem of Clue meets unemployed Dick in Fun with Dick and Jane.)

When stir-crazy, I think of things to do:

Make chili (but a wonderful friend did that)…

Shovel the walk (but a wonderful friend did that, too)…

Make snow angels (but I’m too annoyed at the white stuff)…

Enjoy winter sports (a new meaning to the Great Wall of Slush).

I decided it was time for a snow day retreat. I shut out the news and gloom and I didn’t make lists. I opened up the curtains, put on a pair of fuzzy socks, and crawled under a blanket with a cup of hot tea and a book. Instead of being snowed-in on my couch, I was romping through Sweden. And I wrote.

Having a good, old-fashioned, kid-like snow day with few responsibilities and lots of imagination seemed like magic. I felt like my fairy godmother had bippity-boppity-booed up a blizzard just for me. It made me think of what other ways I can create a magical retreat in my hometown.

What sorts of magic did you make during your snow days?

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