Buried

We awoke to more snow fall this morning. I love to watch it snow, but I refuse to drive in it. Thankfully, it will probably turn to run-off by 10 this morning. It’s been snowing off and on for days now, which isn’t terribly unusual for this time of year. I simply wish that we’d have one day of white so the girls could play in it. I’d make the traditional homemade Sour-Cream Banana Pancakes and then we could march on toward spring.

The snow seems to have landed squarely on my muse’s head, burying her in its heavy, damp flakes. My story is stalled. Whenever I pull up the file, I find the main character and I staring at each other. She looks at me with strikingly troubled blue eyes. I blink back at her with my brown ones. We don’t know what to say to each other, so we simply sit in silence. Maybe today it will be different.

Our little blonde girls continue to grow at an alarming rate. Z-Monster turned four-years-old on Monday and I am surprised at how much she’s changed since coming to live with us. The thing that truly worries me is her cheerless blue eyes. Looking at photos of her from the past nine months, I noted that her smile seldom reaches her eyes. How incredibly sad.

C is buried in her own pile of misery: writing class, Math, Biology. All of which leaves me to wonder if homeschooling has done her any favors. Have I Ied her down a primrose path which leads to shocking surprises in college? It’s every home educator’s nightmare, the day the children return home to thank you for wrecking their educational lives.

Maybe I should just go back to bed…