The children stayed nestled in their beds, except for Critter, who picked up a 'flu bug and was very sick. I wasn't well, either: queasy stomach, headache, general feeling of malaise. Rick ran me a bath (oh, joy!) and brought me a cup of Honey/Ginger tea. I soaked in the tub and tried to read "The Strength of Weakness" by Roy Clements...but my glasses kept steaming up. I gave up and relaxed, enjoying the air bubbles and the scented candles. Felt somewhat better when I pulled myself out.
The day was spent inside, listening to the wind, watching the drifts pile up. We played Christmas Music while chopping vegetables for supper. Jared belted out "Mary's Boy Child" at the top of his lungs, which reminded me of this poem (sorry, Jay!):
Swans sing before they die -
'twere no bad thing
should certain persons die
before they sing.
- Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The boys and dad ventured outside later in the afternoon to clear the driveway. They came in, covered in snow, but satisfied.
A roast is in the oven, veggies in the steamer. I just have to make gravy and get one of the boys to carve the roast, and we'll enjoy Sunday dinner. It's good to be home on a day like this.
We wouldn't have it any other way.
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