A Wintry Morning

All night long we heard the reports of the winter storm that would arrive "sometime."  Nobody was sure exactly when the rain, which came down steadily most of yesterday, would turn to sleet and then into snow.  Everybody was sure it would happen.

During the night the thunder and rain stopped while the predictions of sleet and then snow continued to show blue and pink bands on the weather maps coming closer and closer. 

At 4 a.m. there was still no snow.  The prayed for school closings around the city were now an impossible dream.  Around 5:30 a.m. the snow, mixed with some sleet finally began, accompanied by high winds.  It was miserable outside and folks were now destined to drive to work during the rush hour accompanied by very dangerous road conditions.

Not me, though.  Not the retired me, who lay surrounded in her nice warm bed with her hubby and her two doggies, all of us dozing through the continued traffic and weather warnings. 

School started all over the city at the regular time.  The poor teachers were out there inching through blowing snow and sleet at 6 a.m., undoubtedly cursing their lot.  Business folk started up about an hour later, as conditions continued to worsen.  So did the traffic jams. 

At 8 a.m. I went outside and warmed the car.  Hubby and I put on our warmest outer clothing -- for me a heavy fleece sweatshirt, jeans, the ugly black walking shoes purchased at a cost over $200 that would not let the snow seep in to my toes, the warmest dog-walking coat, a fleece scarf wrapped around my head, a fleece hat over the scarf, another fleece scarf tied securing around my neck, and fleece gloves covering my hands.  Hubby had on wool sweater, hat, heavy coat, and face mask to protect the frozen larynx.   Even the boys wore their fleece dog coats.

Once the car was nice and toasty and had melted most of the ice off its windows, we drove a couple of blocks to the local park where Luie and Gus bounded about, frolicking in the new, pristine snowfall.  Hubby stayed in the car while I trudged, head down, into the gusting wind, making sure the poop and pee for the day were eliminated. 

In 20 minutes we were back into the old Lincoln that Hubby had kept invitingly warm and headed back home.  As we cruised down Troost, our stomping ground, being careful that the Lincoln did not slip and slide, a youngster on his cell phone, tried to rush past us on the right and ran smack into a parked car.  He was going at quite a clip and really banged the heck out of both cars.  We waited around to give our "witness" information, see the kid carted off in an ambulance, and then drove the two blocks to our little house where we settled in for a quiet day of relaxation, warm food, good books to read, and a nap when the inclination came upon us.

I still wonder at the joy I get from being retired.  On mornings such as this, when only the park walk with the boys is my required duty, I offer up thanks to the universe that I have been allowed to relish the serenity that comes with retirement.  We may not be rich, we may not be traveling to the Spanish coast to bask naked in the European sun, we may not be able to buy a $60,000 truck like my neighbors just did -- but I have the wondrous luxury of never worrying about trekking out in bad weather, meeting artificial deadlines, or pleasing superiors I don't much respect.   I have the great comfort and extravagance of staying home on a wintry morning and doing absolutely nothing.