This picture has been going around on Facebook for the past couple days. It expresses my sentiments so perfectly. It has been snowing that sleety, wet snow for days. And days and days. There is hardly a dusting on the ground, but the result is almost the same as a full blown snowstorm. We're stuck inside.
It's not all that unusual in these parts, where Spring is often just a suggestion rather than a real season. I'm trying to make the best of it, working on projects indoors.
Yesterday, Dan and I hauled a bookcase from the garage down to the basement. The bookcase was a find on the side of the road. There are actually two of them, we just haven't figured out where to put the second one, because they are so tall that they only fit in the basement. I spent the afternoon unpacking boxes of books that haven't seen the light of day at least since our move over two years ago. I literally clapped my hands at the sight of my favorite volumes by Jan Karon and Anne Lindgbegh; texts from two years of Catholic Biblical School and my western women's history collection; books that belonged to my grandmother. Now, they are all easily accessible. I can run my fingers over their spines, pull a volume from the shelf to check a reference or just re-read a favorite passage.
We set it up in my crafting area, next to the makeshift table that Dan made out of sawhorses and an old door. It started out as a place to wrap Christmas presents, but I love that it's a huge wide surface, waist high, and it's become my hobby table. Lucky for me that Dan has another set of sawhorses.
I am happy working there to the sound of the radio playing and the dryer humming; sipping a cup of tea, surrounded by my books.