Time Out

Yesterday my husband was trudging through the snow, back and forth, restocking the woodpile. I had been working at my desk since seven o’clock that morning, feeling sorry for myself that I hadn’t had a day off all week. My attempt to get him to stop and enjoy what was left of the warm winter afternoon was met with, “I want to get my chores done first.” I knew all about that feeling. I also knew the sun would fall out of the Sunday sky before he’d reach his goal. So I gave up, turned on my heels, and decided enough was enough. No more work. Nature’s snowy delivery deserved my cheerful attention more than it did the cursed back-breaking shoveling of late. And so I plopped down in the front yard, packed a handful of snow into my palms, and started the creative ball rolling.

My snowman creation.
My snowman creation.

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