It's been a busy week for me, rushing from all-day meetings to the airport for a quick trip to Boston. I didn't expect to have much time there, and hadn't brought along any knitting. My projects in hand were either at a tricky stage or large.
I rushed through security, armed myself with a snack and a book, rushed to my gate, and prepared to board the plane. There all the rushing stopped. They were boarding, all right, but the display said Orlando, not Boston. Well, I thought, I'd better check the departure board to make sure I haven't made a mistake, hadn't I? As it turned out, my flight had been delayed. And, startlingly, it wasn't delayed for 10 or 15 minutes, but for four hours. (It was actually closer to five, when all was said and done, but four is what the board said.) No shortage of time now.
The problem wasn't in Boston. They had had 15 inches of snow the day before, but that had been dealt with by then. New Englanders do pride themselves on how well they cope with the snow and how poorly they think we handle it here in the mid-Atlantic. They have it plowed, and salted, and cleared in the blink of an eye. They take it all in stride, never missing a beat. We know this because they often take the opportunity to explain it to us. But this late plane was coming from elsewhere, actually a warm-weather place, so the Boston weather had nothing to do with the delay. There was nothing to do but wait it out. I wandered the airport until its diversions palled and settled in to read. It made for a late night getting in to the hotel, followed by an early morning and a breathless day.
Meetings over with, the return trip was smooth, with no ripple greater than an exceptionally chatty seatmate. I got home, sank gratefully into bed, and awoke to...
lovely, lovely snow!
I was delighted. Snow does fall here a few times each winter, but not so often that we lose our joy in it. And this time, I was particularly happy to see it. It snowed all day. It blanketed and muffled and damped down work's anxiety, and urgency, and hurry. It gave me just the excuse I needed (roads might ice up!) to decide to stay home for some much-needed time to relax. And sit by the fire. And knit. I lunched on home-made soup. I finished the Knots and Rings socks for my good-humored brother.
I had a peaceful, pleasant day looking out at the snow falling and doing exactly as I pleased.
And they think they know how to handle snow!