I left the warm cocoon of soft cotton sheets and small furry animals to answer nature’s call just after 4:30 AM, and managed to read another chapter in the book I’m currently enjoying, the most recent offering from Lauren Willig.
As I was padding softly back to bed, I heard the quiet jingling of dog tags, and asked Miss Cleo if she needed to go out. She did, and so I retrieved my turquoise HAPPY tank top and ancient white sweats from the floor, and slid my feet into my white chenille bath slippers, and we shuffled across the living room which was bathed in dim whitish light filtering in from the windows. Zorro trotted slowly after us, as if making sure that we were coming back inside. He was a bit bleary-eyed, and moved slowly, as if his joints were in need of lubrication. He’s ten, so arthritis isn’t outside the realm of possibilities.
Saw a dusting of white on the patio before I clicked on the outside light, and opened the sliding door. After looking out, I determined it was more than a dusting of snow, and closer akin to a frosting. Miss Cleo happily scampered across the deck, leaving a classic line of paw prints. She came back before Zorro had even arrived at the door. He stuck his nose out, and immediately turned around, giving me a long suffering sigh as if to say, “I got out of bed for this?”
“Are you sure?” I asked him in my quiet morning voice. He was, and indicated this by plodding Eeyore-like, back through the living room.
We all returned to bed, where I informed my sleeping husband, “It’s snowing.” He grunted in response. As I skinned out of the sweats and tank, and slid into bed next to him I felt the heat he was radiating, and released a soft, “Mmmm. You’re warm.” Blissfully asleep, he declined to answer.
Miss Cleo nosed under the covers, and Zorro curled against me, and I closed my eyes, but my mind was racing, so I pulled the laptop into bed with me and checked email. The result left me with a soft smile, for I’d received a Click-and-Ship notification from BPAL that my first official order was going out.
And so I am turning the light out again, and I will lay in my soft bed, and rest another couple of hours, insulated by the softly falling snow outside my window.
Soft by Melissa Bartell is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.