Sunday. Snow Day. Grey morning light. White snow swirling.
I snuggled up against the other human in the bed.
The dog thrust herself under the covers and flopped down against my legs.
It was a lie-in, the house cold, no one wanting to leave the warm island of fleece and wool.
The phone would ring soon, telling me church was cancelled.
There was no need to rush, no need to put feet onto cold floor.
"You are my sunshine," I said to my husband and kissed his forehead.
That seemed inappropriate for the day so I added,
"You are my snowstorm."
But that didn't quite cover it so I went on.
"You are my thunder and lightning.
"You are my blue skies and white clouds.
"You are my snowflakes and rain drops.
"Oh, and you are the one who stokes my fire
and brews my coffee."
He grunted and rolled away.
"Alright, I'm getting up," he said.
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