Today was unlike most snow days. With sleet and hail falling all day and the ground covered in a blanket of deep, white slush, the children did not last long outside and spent most of the day playing by the fire and remembering to be hungry at odd times.
Rebecca's dolls, Ania and Lucy, watched her crochet a blue blanket for a friend. As you may be able to see in this photo, Ania (left) broke her leg doing a flip and needed to be fitted for a paper towel cast (complete with signature). Jude and Danielle spread blankets over the ottoman, and it became a cave large enough for the two of them to crawl in, but small enough to keep everyone else out. Neil and Cecilia slipped down the basement to play "hangman ball," a game of Cecilia's own invention. I am not quite clear on the rules, but it involves losing the use of your limbs one by one each time you miss, until the loser can no longer play at all.
The children sprinkled nuts, bread crumbs, strawberries and even a few bits of banana beside the back door for the birds. It turns out that jays like pistachios as much as we do.
I curled up in a wing chair with one of my favorite books, "Mrs. Sharp's Traditions." It appeals to my born-in-the-wrong-century, madly-in-love-with-home-life side. Mrs. Sharp's snow day lunch of grilled cheese, tomato soup and hot chocolate is a must, although it isn't quite as good when you don't come in from the snow all bone frozen and blow on the soup until it is cool enough to taste.
Speaking of "born in the wrong century," Danielle came downstairs just now in a nightgown and mob cap, snuggled up beside me, and fell asleep.
"Then, when mother stops our play,
Father puts his book away
And he makes upon the wall
Shadow pictures for us all.
There a rabbit wags its ears
Or a grinning face appears
Or a swan with feathered wings
Ships and many other things;
Last of all a night-capped head
Then we know it's time for bed."