Wintry mix

I’m home alone today, with no work to do, my piles of papers filed, the tax packet ready to send off, my office more or less cleaned, and nothing I must do.

The weather outside is a bit nasty, with what they like to call “wintry mix” falling. The term wintry mix might sound to some resident of the tropics like the name of an annual flower seed mixture, but it’s decidedly not that. The technical definition is: “yuck from the sky.”

But also throw into the mix:

One wood stove purring along gently, throwing its glow and heat in my specific direction. One cat stretched out in front of said stove, hogging the entire dog bed. Another cat installed practically underneath the stove. One mug of freshly brewed tea. One stack of books to be browsed. One fully-charged computer. One darling husband who took Mr. Needy Dog away for the day. One daughter happily busy at school. One barn full of goats, safe and cozy and independent until at least mid-afternoon. One fully-stocked refrigerator.

And hours. And hours. And hours.