Winter from my Windows

Ever write half a post, put it in your drafts "for later," only to find out that "later" is much, much later than you had thought?

Me, too.

I wrote this post two weeks ago and then life at Christmastime happened. I was pinned to my sewing chair, trying to get a little something made for every girl in my family.

Anyway...maybe "later" comes much, much later because I jabber on?

----------------Here goes a two-week old post, but still, I'd rather have it published than sitting in my drafts till summer.-------

)))

Monday and Tuesday were snow days here. Instead of getting the 1-3" called for by the very reliable weather professionals, we were graced with 8" here on our Maryland terrain.

My husband's office closed Tuesday,  and it felt good to have him home.  So he could take it easy, you know.   I was hoping he could enjoy the snow blower we bought at a yard sale last summer from a neighbor about to move away.  That neighbor took meticulous care of his yard, so I assumed he took meticulous care of his yard tools as well. Wrong.   Paul could never get the dumb thing started.

Instead, he relied on a shovel and a strong back.  Simple machine meets most complex machine in the universe.

I sat and quilted all day, but took pictures of the winter bliss from every window.



From my sewing room...

The pure white snow inspires creativity.  It also inspires someone to dig out around my van.

Tall, slender trees silhouetted against a grey-white sky

look dreamy to me. 

From the back bedroom...

No photo editing here, this was the natural sepia tone of mid-morning that day.  I felt like I could just reach out and pick a handful of cotton off the weeping willow.  That is where cotton grows, right?

From the dining room window...

And from the kitchen ...

Reilly, the dog, sees me shooting from the kitchen window.  This is his typical look:  "Wanna come out and play, huh? Pretty please?" look. "I have a tennis ball here. All you have to do is open the door and throw it. I'll bring it back!  Twenty times, that's all.  Please??"

I wanted him to come in from the cold.  He was perfectly happy. God gave him a good, thick coat and he puts it to good use.  

Some dogs actually talk their people into going for walks in freezing weather. 

Reilly is not one of those dogs. 

He has a big backyard and woods behind it to escape to when wanderlust strikes .

And a river   stream  runs through it. 

Meanwhile, as I take pictures from the comfort of my bedroom window, 

someone works hard cleaning all that pretty snow from a steep driveway. 

I thank God for him, and--in a fleeting moment of morbid pondering which happens now and then--I wonder what my life would be like without him. I cannot bear the thought of being a widow. 

I return to my sewing, where the snowflakes I touch are in the fabric of the table runner I'm making for my second daughter-in-law. 

I called this little quilt "Get My Drift?" 

And alas, someone is almost finished his work in the real snow. 

And then someone takes a last photo and puts the camera away to 

resume her wintry weather work from inside the windows.