Outside my window . . . light rain is coming down. It is only 35 degrees and there are reports of snow all over the region, although I have not yet seen any fall.
I am thinking . . . I wish I could build a fire, make some hot cocoa, light the Christmas tree, curl up with a book, and enjoy a cozy, lazy day at home where it is warm. But I must go to work, so I will have to brave the traffic and road conditions.
I am thankful for . . . my job, home, and all the associated blessings. My bills are paid. A gentleman was just interviewed on the local news broadcast. The reporter asked him if he would be going to work today, considering the dangerous conditions on the roads. He responded, “No, I am one of the statistics. I am unemployed, so I can stay home today and not have to worry about getting to work.” The reporter looked embarrassed and I immediately said a prayer for that man and his family, followed by a prayer of thanks for my own circumstances.
I am wearing . . . a nightshirt.
I am remembering . . . the day it snowed lightly and we all ran out of our community college classrooms to catch snowflakes on our tongues. The snow melted as soon as it hit the ground, so we did not remain outdoors long enough to build a snowman. Classes resumed pretty quickly. That was about 30 years ago, and is the last time I remember seeing snow in this area.
I am going . . . to have to get dressed soon and venture out in the rain.
I am currently reading . . . short stories and articles. I am not reading a particular book at the moment.
I am hoping . . . for a safe commute to work and that the day goes quickly so that I can get back home to my warm house, Christmas tree, and a comfortable, relaxing evening in front of a crackling fire.
On my mind . . . the amount of work I need to finish over the course of the next two weeks before I enjoy some vacation time over the holidays.
Noticing that . . . the rain seems to have stopped altogether, at least for now.
Pondering these words . . . “We search for everything we believe we don’t have, not knowing that everything we are looking for is already inside us. We are born with it.” (Don Miguel Ruiz)
From the kitchen . . . not a creature is stirring yet. The room is dark and quiet. I haven’t even entered that room yet this morning.
Around the house . . . there is quiet except for the sound of my computer keys and the weather reports being broadcast on the local television station.
One of my favorite things . . . is spending a few quiet moments by myself in my quiet house each morning before getting dressed and facing the demands of the day.
A photo I am sharing today:
To see the list of other participants and read their thoughts for today, visit Grandmother Wren.