Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where the deities of the winter solstice have had a whopper of a pillow fight! The weather outside is frightful.
We at "The Gods Are Bored" live about 50 miles east of the Atlantic Ocean. Usually when it snows elsewhere in the Delaware Valley, it rains here. Every now and then, however, we get these storms called Nor'Easters. If they come in with cold temperatures, it snows like all get out.
Weather forecasts only begin to predict these storms with any accuracy about 12 hours before they begin. Last night we got the call: 12 to 18 inches. And the bored gods have delivered.
Just now The Spare and I took a walk. She hasn't seen this much snow in years -- the last time, she was about eight.
Disruptions: The foster kittens were supposed to go back to the shelter today. Forget it. They're still here. I wasn't willing to drive three miles. My Druid Grove's Solstice Ritual is likewise scratched. In the apparent world, that is.
Heir spent last night in Philadelphia with her beatnik friends, but I woke her at 8:00 and got her on the El before the worst of the storm hit. It was such a relief to see her walk out of the El station this morning, to know she would be here with us.
Tonight the house is warm with smells of roast turkey and oatmeal cookies. There are a few too many cats. Decibel the Parrot is a little flustered. The Christmas tree has been placed and lit, but not decorated. The snow is still falling.
I think I'll put a festive cloth on the table and say a prayer, like Dylan Thomas, to the close and holy darkness.